The Ranch
by Manic Penguin
Summary: Harm left DC to teach flying in San Diego for two weeks, leaving Mac to investigate a hit-and-run in San Antonio with Meg Austin. Only it's not as simple as it looks. Minimal spoilers. HarmMac romance, HarmMeg longings
1. Chapter One

**_Okay, I just started watching JAG again after about four years of not (I'm still not sure why I stopped watching... maybe a timeslot conflict or something) and my history is a little lacking, so please forgive me on that front. I'm watching JAG on History Television everymorning at nine, so I'm catching up, but not fast enough for my liking._**

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**_I loved the character of Meg Austin, and, as much as I love Mac, I miss Meg. She left so unceremoniously. So I brought her back._**

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**_This story is definitely Harm/Mac. There is angst, fluff, definitely language issues, and a case. Your basic episode._**

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**_Please let me know what you think about my first try at writing JAG fanfic._**

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**_Oh, and my vocabulary of military terms and all that is limited to what I've seen on the show other people's fanfics,and what little I've learned from my cousin, Darren,an ex-Navy diver._**

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**_Enjoy._**

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**Unknown Highway**

**1800 hours**

**San Antonio, Texas**

Country music, Lieutenant Dylan J. Lleavaier decided, was something akin to root canals without anaesthetic. But he was the junior officer and his partner was from Nashville, so he was stuck with the pitiful crooning and whimpering of the music of heartache. He idly wondered, after the announcer declared it was time for the weekly call-in hour where amateur country artists could call in and sing to a wider audience than they got in the shower, what sin he had committed for this to be his karmic reward.

Lleavaier and his partner, Lieutenant Commander Kayla Miller, were driving home from the airport, having just returned from a tour of duty on a carrier in the middle of the Atlantic. Their departure from the carrier had been delayed by several hours due to a visiting Admiral's arrival and their replacement's delayed departure from their home base in San Diego. The several hour delay had cost them their seats on the commercial flight they had booked to get them home. They had been able to get tickets home fairly easily, though, using their Naval Officer status to a slightly sleazy and definitely unethical advantage to get ahead of a couple who were reluctant to return from their honeymoon and a family of ten—eight kids under the age of sixteen and two parents who looked like they wanted to just walk away and leave the whining kids to whoever was brave enough to take them.

"Wanna stop for somethin' ta eat before headin' home, Dyl?" Kayla asked, already signalling to turn into the McDonalds drive through.

"Definitely," Lleavaier said, hoping he didn't sound too eager to down a couple of Big Macs. The commissary in the galley on the carrier had been able to make decent stew, and good, strong coffee, but that was the extent of his culinary abilities.

It was good to be home, Lleavaier decided.

Country music notwithstanding.

"How many this time?" Kayla asked as they pulled up to the speaker

"Three at least," he replied. He sat back in his seat and smirked as his partner ordered six Big Macs, three extra-large fries, and two jumbo Cokes. He bit his lip to keep from laughing at the look on the face of the teen that was working the window when she saw that there were only two people in the car, both in full Navy garb, for all the food.

They ate as they drove through the streets, avoiding the main streets that were too busy for Kayla Miller's lack of patience, and talked and laughed and reminisced about things that had happened on the carrier. They were both glad they were home, on Terra Firma, where the biggest offence in noise pollution was a Yorkie yipping at the mailman rather than a fighter jet taking off or landing, but they both already missed the constant action on the carrier that they had gotten so used to over the past two years.

Kayla never saw the kid coming.

* * *

**JAG Headquarters**

**0600 hours**

**Falls Church, Virginia**

Colonel Sarah MacKenzie, Mac to those she was close to, was already on her fifth cup of coffee when she got to her office, files in hand. Three at home, one at the coffee shop near her apartment, and one more on her way to the office.

She hadn't slept the night before.

_Again_.

Her partner, Harmon Rabb, Jr had been asked to help out with some training sessions for new pilots who were just starting to fly Tomcats. Three days before, Harm had left her a message on her machine at home saying he'd be gone for a week and that there were details in a file on her desk. It had been late, and she figured it was just a case that didn't require her involvement or that he was being partnered with someone else for, so she had kicked off her shoes and sunk down into a hot bath, forgetting about it until the morning when she found the file with Harm's itinerary. The jerk hadn't even left her a number where she could contact him. He just made sure she knew what times he would be flying and what times he would be on the tarmac.

She hated it when he flew.

She had never liked it when he went up in a Tomcat, knowing that when he got in the cockpit the adrenaline started pumping and the testosterone was flowing and he took stupid risks because the cocky pilot gene—which she knew had to be hereditary because every Harm man for at least three generations was a pilot—kicked in and when that happened the switch in the brain that controlled logical and rational thought was flipped off. Her uncanny ability to know exactly what time it was no matter what made it impossible for her not to think about Harm being in the air, probably showing off to a bunch of newbies, flexing his flying muscles, as it were. She had always hated it when he so much as got near a F-14, but ever since his swim in the Atlantic—Harm still refused to admit it was a crash, and Mac was starting to bend to his will and call it a 'swim'—Mac had been unable to think of anything else whenever there was even the slightest chance that Harm was going to be going up. She had frozen up in the middle of a cross-examination the day before when she realized that Harm would be starting the practical portion of the lesson right at that moment. She managed to win the case, but she knew it had been close and she hated that her partner had gotten so far under her skin that her job, her career, her reputation, her life… everything she had… all of it was second in importance, ranking far lower on her list of priorities than the safety of one Commander Rabb.

Nodding blindly to several co-workers and pausing briefly to speak to Bud Roberts about the tickets to a New York Knicks game she had bought for her godson, AJ Roberts, Mac had been on autopilot. Once she was behind her office door with a steady day of paperwork ahead of her, Mac let her shoulder's sag and her exhaustion show through, not even having the energy to keep up the façade until the end of the workday like she usually could.

They had been separated for long periods of time before, whether by work or circumstance, but they always managed to talk to each other at least once a day. Mac loved curling up on her couch or even in bed and having a long talk with her best friend, the man she was in love with, no matter how far apart they were. She had even spent a few hours talking to him while she soaked in a bath once, but she had found the temptation to initiate phone sex became too great as the bubbles and steaming water sluiced around her naked body and Harm's deep, soothing voice reverberated against her ear. But this trip he had been incommunicado, and not because the assignment required it. He just wasn't calling her. And she couldn't call him because she didn't even know where he was, just that he was going back and forth between a base and a carrier with his little troop of wanna-be-pilots. She missed talking to Harm. Laughing and joking and teasing and rambling on for hours about nothing and everything at the same time. Long talks about what they wanted for their futures. Calling when the other was sick and on bed rest just to make sure that there wasn't anything that the other needed. Late night calls after nightmares for the comfort of a willing ear and the reaffirmation that there's always someone who is ready and willing to rush to your rescue, regardless of whether the demons that are attacking you are real, imaginary, or just your garden variety personal ones.

Dropping her empty cup into the garbage can, Mac sank down into her desk chair, her eyes drawn to a picture of herself, Harm, and little AJ. If anyone asked she had it there because it was a really good picture of the little boy who she adored and, while that was partially true, her favourite part of the photograph was the fact that Harm had his arm around her shoulders and she was leaning against his chest comfortably. The picture had been taken the year before at a Christmas party. Bud and his wife, Harriet, had been hosting and Mac and Harm had spent a great deal of their time avoiding the group of cheerful and slightly drunk military officers, deciding to hang out with their godson who got a little nervous when his home got invaded by so many people. It didn't happen all the time, but that Christmas had been one of the less happy times for littleAJ.

Deciding that she should at least check her messages—refusing to admit that she wouldn't even have bothered with that if she didn't think there was a chance that Harm might have called—Mac accessed her voicemail and picked up a pen and a legal pad from the explosion of files on her desk to take down any pertinent information. There was one call from Harriett about grabbing some lunch together. The second message was from Commander Sturgis Turner who wanted to remind her of their meeting with Accounting on Friday for their bi-annual mini0audit. The next few calls were from old clients who were looking for some further legal advice or were just calling to thank her or give her an update on how their lives were going.

She listened to all of them and then promptly deleted the messages.

The last message, however, intrigued her.

"Colonel MacKenzie, this is Commander Austin from San Antonio. I have approached Admiral Chegwidden regarding JAG lending some investigative and legal expertise in a matter that has spun out of control down here. The Admiral suggested that I speak to you about what is going on here. Please give me a call at 555-3019 as soon as you can. Thank you."

The female commander sounded so earnest and familiar that Mac decided to return the call before settling in for another day of getting nothing done.

* * *

**Miramar Naval Base **

**1147 hours**

**San Diego, California**

Guilt wasn't something that Harmon Rabb, Jr allowed himself to wallow in often. He always put everything he had and then some into everything he did. There were a few times, like when he had gone out to lunch with an old friend and his partner had been shot in their office, or when he lost a case that he knew he could have won if he had only done something differently. Hindsight was something that cursed Harm. Thoughts ranging from 'I should have spent more time with dad while I had the chance' or 'I should have never looked twice at this woman' or 'I never should have brought that up in court today' were fairly common for him to linger on, but he didn't let the guilt eat away at him like some people did.  
He did, however, feel guilty for the way he left DC. 

Not telling Mac that he was going to be flying before he left was something that overwhelmed Harm with guilt. He knew how she felt about him flying. Mac had never tried to hide her anxiety over him flying, and she was equally open about her dislike of the way he got around his beloved F-14 Tomcats. That was why he had just told her he would be out of town on the message, knowing that she would think it was a case and not bothering to go to her organized chaos black-hole-for-case-files of an office to check the information he had left for her until the morning. That would shave almost twelve hours off the time she spent alternatively worrying about him and cursing his name.

The teaching gig had been optional, a request from an old friend from flight school. Harm had weighed his options and, since there were no cases pending and he had to do some recertification time anyway, he agreed. The Admiral had been very understanding and had had him transferred to San Diego for the two week stint.

Harm's mother and stepfather were traveling, and he didn't feel like staying in their house alone, so he had taken up residence in the housing on the base. Training the future flyboy brigade was going well, though there were a few who he didn't feel were well suited for the stresses of flying Tomcats. There were ten pilots, each with experienced RIOs to watch their backs. Most of the mornings were spent either on Terra Firma going over details verbally, then, after lunch, came the flying. Demonstrating how to pull off successful Traps had gone well, and when the trainees had taken to the sky and had attempted Traps of their own no damage had been done to any equipment, which was a miracle in and of itself. They weren't always successful—in fact, only one had made a halfway decent Trap on the first flight out, the others slowly coming around—but the fact that they didn't think they were gods yet was refreshing. But he could see the cockiness coming in, attracted to the future faces of flight like metal filings to a magnet. It was only a matter of time before the next generation of Top Guns hit the wild blue yonder in billion-dollar-a-piece works of art.

Harm had been tempted to call Mac, but he felt it was better to give his lean, mean, green Marine some time to cool off before they spoke again. He knew she would be pissed at him for not telling her outright that he would be flying, and, as he had heard the rant several times before, he knew he would probably on the receiving end of either a multiple-hour rant session upon returning or months upon months of the cold shoulder and dirty, devious tactics in court. He couldn't afford listening to Mac rant over the phone while he was in the middle of a week of teaching. Lives were in his hands.

In short, he was scared shitless of what Mac's reaction would be.

But in the end, his need to hear her sweet voice—even if it was yelling at him—won out.

After training was over for the day Harm went back to the small piece of property he had been allotted and picked up the phone, dialling the number for Mac's cell without even thinking about it.

The message he got instead of the usual ringing disheartened him greatly.

"You have reached Colonel MacKenzie. Leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as you can."

The beep sounded and, instead of hanging up, which was his first inclination, he sighed and then said, "Hey, Mac, it's me. Just wanted to call, say hi, see how things are back at the office. I'll… uh… talk to you later."

Replacing the phone in its cradle, Harm groaned aloud. He hadn't sounded that awkward on the phone since he was fourteen and he had called the girl he liked to ask her out and had ended up getting her father.

Stripping off his flight suit, Harm headed for the shower, hoping that he might get some actual sleep that night instead of tossing and turning like he had since leaving DC.

* * *

_What did you think? There's more coming. I'm thinking there'll be about ten chapters in all. Maybe more, maybe less. But if no one likes it, I'll stop now because there's no point in continuing if no one is reading._

_M_


	2. Chapter Two

**San Antonio International Airport**

**0400 hours**

**San Antonio, Texas**

Mac was exhausted, both physically and emotionally. After calling Commander Austin back but getting a machine herself, Mac had been called to the Admiral's office for a meeting with Chegwidden and Sturgis about some cases they were working on. That kept her occupied for most of the rest of the day. Then, just before she left for the day, Admiral Chegwidden had told her that she was being assigned to go help Commander Austin in Texas. He also said that if the case ran longer than Friday he would make sure that Harm changed his flight plan to meet up with her in San Antonio.

So she headed for the airport, her bag already in the trunk of her car—good Marines were always ready to leave at a moment's notice—and she got on a plane.

A haggard looking blonde woman in a Navy uniform was waiting for Mac, offering up a weak smile before greeting the Colonel. "I'm Commander Meg Austin. It's an honour to meet you, ma'am."

"Sarah MacKenzie. Call me Mac," was Mac's reply. "So, you're the Lieutenant Austin I've heard so much about."

"Pardon me, ma'am?" the native Texan asked politely as they headed out to Meg's care.

"From Harm. I was brought in as your replacement at JAG after you left," Mac said.

Meg's face lit up in a brilliant smile. "I have to confess, when I called the Admiral I was hoping he would tell me to talk to Harm," she said. "I mean, because we've worked together before," the younger woman back-pedalled quickly.

"I'm not here to question your motives, Commander. And I'm also not here to make assumptions. But please don't make it impossible for me not to," Mac said as she stopped beside a fleet sedan. "Whatever went on between you and Harm doesn't concern me, and has no bearing on what is going on right now. So, if you wouldn't mind, I'd like to try to get some sleep before starting on this case."

Meg unlocked the door and took Mac's bag to put it in the trunk, then went around to the driver's side and slid in carefully. "I realize it's none of my business, ma'am, and I'm sure you get this all the time—Lord knows I did, and I was only his partner for a year—but is there anything going on with you and Harm?" Meg asked.

"We're friends and colleagues. That's all," Mac said. Then, reluctantly, she asked a question that had been burning at her for years. "What about you? Were you and Harm ever… more than partners?"

"God no. Gorgeous as he is, Harm is not my type," Meg said with a smile.

Mac smiled in return. She had always worried that Harm and his former partner had been more than just co-workers. The way he talked about Meg Austin was the same way he talked about his father or about flying. With respect and reverence and a great deal of love, like one spoke of the _one that got away_.

It wasn't easy for Mac to admit that she was jealous. Renee and Jordan were two women that had gotten under her skin enough for Mac to admit to jealousy. Not aloud, of course, but at least to herself. But there was something about Meg Austin that was different. There was something almost sacred about Meg and Harm's relationship.

Mac wasn't under any delusions about her place in Harm's life. She knew he loved her as a friend—his best friend—and the connection they had forged over the years was unbreakable, no matter what life threw at them. Their relationship was solid.

That said, everyone has insecurities. Mac's was her feminity, or, rather, the lack thereof. She was a lean, mean, fighting Marine and damn proud of it, but under the wool uniforms and tough as nails exterior she was still a woman who hadn't had the easiest life and wanted to be loved and cared for. And, while Meg had multiple commendations and had been in the military for almost as long as Mac, Meg still had a sweet guilelessness about her. With her pale skin that was dusted with freckles and her wide and innocent eyes Meg was a paradox; a little girl dressing up in a Navy uniform and doing a good job of acting the part while still keeping her innate innocence. Meg looked like the type of woman who wouldn't put up a fight if some man decided to play knight in shining armour—or inshining gold wings. Mac, on the other hand, was trained from birth, almost, that the only person she could rely on was herself. Harm had been able to open her up a little, but there were still very few people who she trusted, and there was no one she trusted more than Harmon Rabb.

Meg's voice grew wistful. "I do miss him, though."

"You haven't stayed in touch?" Mac inquired innocently.

Meg shrugged her slim shoulders. "Phone calls for birthdays, Christmas cards… a few e-mails. Your basic stay-in-touch pact. We're both busy with work and everything, but we try to stay up to date in each other's lives."

"That's nice," Mac said, jealousy threatening to overtake her.

Meg observed the straight-laced Marine out of the corner of her eye. Underneath the uniform and the tough-chick façade Meg could tell that Sarah MacKenzie was in love with Harmon Rabb. It was obvious that they weren't together, but from the way Harm talked about his partner when they had spoken anytime in the past eight years or so, Harm loved Mac with everything he had.

Not usually one to play matchmaker, Meg decided that she might be able to help get her friend and his partner together.

Her mind immediately concocted a plan and she put it into action immediately.

"Harm and I have actually been talking a lot lately," Meg said.

"Really?" Mac asked, feigning interest in hopes of masking her irrational urge to scream.

Meg nodded. "Yeah. He's been so great. He's even promised to come here to be with me… when it happens. You know, to help me get things settled and organized. I doubt I'll be up to much, anyway."

Mac frowned. She was more confused and intrigued than ever before.

"He even offered to come stay with us for a little while, before… but no one knows how long it will be before… and there's no sense in him taking time off work to wait for something to happen," Meg continued, noting Mac's frown and furrowed brow but pretending she didn't have a clue. "He's not so great at civil law, truth be told, but he's put a lot of time and energy into ensuring that after my mother dies my brothers and I won't have to worry about anything."

"Your mother is dying?" Mac asked softly. She suddenly felt like crap for having the feelings towards the other woman that she had.

Meg nodded. "Slowly and painfully. Leukemia. She was diagnosed ten years ago. That's why I left JAG, originally. To help her out. She went into remission but the cancer came back about a year ago and she refused to take the time for treatment. Running the ranch is time consuming and it's all she has. She hasn't been able to get out of bed for almost a week, though. That's part of why I called Admiral Chegwidden for help. With my mother bedridden and the ranch to take care of I've been having a tough time keeping up with some of my investigations."

"What do you do when your investigations take you away from the ranch?" Mac asked.

"My CO hasn't put me on any that have required travel. He's an old friend of my family and doesn't seem to have a problem making the schedules of people under his command flexible," Meg said. She turned off the highway onto a gravel road. "I hope you don't mind staying at the ranch. The majority of base housing is being renoed and it's too late to find a hotel."

"It's fine," Mac said.

"Only a few rooms have air conditioning… you could have mine if you're uncomfortable in this heat," Meg said.

"I'll be fine anywhere. I spent most of my life in Arizona. Heat is not an issue for me," Mac assured the other woman as they pulled up to a large ranch. There was a simple house sitting next to numerous stables. Some basic equipment could be seen from the parking space. The smell of fresh cut hay filled the air as Mac got out of the car.

Mac grabbed her bag from the trunk and brought it inside, following Meg who made a beeline for the kitchen.

"So tell me about the investigation so far," Mac said as she sat down at the kitchen table.

Meg headed for the fridge. "Two Naval officers were on their way home after their TOD ended. They were driving past a school and they hit an eight year old boy who was on his way home from baseball practise," Meg said. "Do you want anything?" she added, holding up two bottles of beer.

Mac had no desire to take Meg up on her alcoholic offer. "No thanks, I'm fine," Mac said. She didn't see any reason to reveal her alcoholism to the blonde. Meg put one bottle back in the fridge and then opened the other for herself. "So the boy was alone?" Mac asked.

"His parents were with him. He was running ahead of them. Wanted to get home in time for some TV show."

"What's the boy's condition?" Mac inquired.

"Multiple fractures, ruptured spleen, a punctured lung. He made it through surgery without any complications, but he hasn't woken up yet," Meg said softly, picking at the label on her bottle. "The doctors aren't holding out much hope," she added sadly.

"What did the drivers do?"

"After they hit the boy they sped away. The parents got the licence plate and saw the uniforms. The car was tracked down and was taken to the base lab. We're just waiting for the analysis on the trace to come back. It should be ready for us to pick up around noon."

"Have you interviewed Lieutenant Lleavaier and Lieutenant Commander Miller?"

"Briefly," Meg nodded before taking a draw from her bottle. "Neither one of them is being that forthcoming."

"I've never met anyone who was in their situation," Mac said coolly. Meg half nodded in response. "Alright. I'd like to talk to them tomorrow. The parents of the boy, as well, if possible."

Meg nodded. "As soon as Admiral Chegwidden called to tell me that you were on your way I made appointments with Lleavaier and Miller for 0800, and Jonathon and Brenda Wade will be at the hospital with their son all day tomorrow. I figured we could talk to Lleavaier and Miller, pick up the results from the lab, and then head over to the hospital."

"Sounds like a plan," Mac nodded.

* * *

**_Most updates won't be this short, I promise. The next chapter will be longer, and, if things go according to my mental plan, Harm should be joining Meg and Mac in Texas in the next update._**

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**_Any suggestions for theboy's first name would be greatly appreciated. I hate coming up with names for people. Probably why I stopped writing original fics and moved to the world of fanfiction._**

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**_M_**


	3. Chapter Three

**Miramar Air Base, Guest Housing**

**0410 hours**

**San Diego, California**

Insomnia wasn't common for Harm, but when it hit, it hit hard. He would usually go for a run if he couldn't sleep, but, as he was on base, his options were limited until about an hour before sunup. Too many paranoid enlisted men and women for his liking. His abdominal muscles were already sore from doing sit-ups and his arms were ready to give out from all the push-ups he'd done. He had counted sheep and done some breathing exercises he'd learned in flight school, but he couldn't manage to drift off.

Guilt, he knew, was going to kick his Flyboy ass until he made things right with Mac.

Resigning himself to another sleepless night, Harm padded over to the small desk where he had plugged his laptop in to charge the battery. He booted it up and accessed the Internet, figuring he could check his e-mail to see if the Admiral had sent him any information on upcoming cases that he would need to know. There weren't any, but Harm wasn't really expecting anything until closer to the end of his two-week teaching period.

There was, however, a message from Mac.

Opening the message, Harm steeled himself for what he was worried would be in Mac's message.

_Hey, Flyboy,_

_I would have contacted you sooner, but I thought it best to take some time to breathe before reaming you out. So I've taken a few days to calm down and, though I'm not happy with the way you left, I'm not mad about you leaving. I have to admit that I was at first—cursing your name, plotting ways to kill you without leaving any evidence—but I know that flying is your first love and I can't think of anyone better suited than you to pass on that love for flight to the next generation of pilots. I wish you had told me in person that you were leaving DC, though. If it was a case, I'd understand the lack of advance notice, but you should have known you were leaving at least a few days before you had to leave._

_But that's not the reason I'm writing this._

_Admiral Chegwidden sent me to San Antonio to investigate two Navy officers who ran over an eight year old boy. I haven't had a chance to get any real details since I didn't get in until an ungodly hour this morning and most results from both the hospital and the crime lab are still pending, but I have a feeling that there's more to this than meets the eye. I'm not sure if it's the case, or the fact that I know that the Admiral thinks I'll be working on this case long enough to need you to come in as back up once your done teaching, but either way there's something… wrong about all this._

_I'd like to talk to you about some things, if you've got the time. You've got my number._

_Please be careful up there, Harm._

_Love,_

_Mac_

_P.S: Meg says 'hi'._

Harm reread the letter a few times; trying to discern from her words just how much trouble he was in. Even though she had said she wasn't angry anymore, he knew Mac. She might not strike back right away, but eventually, during a future unrelated fight, she would come back to this moment. Harm knew she would.

Figuring that he was in for a healthy dose of Jarhead anger in the near future, Harm mentally calculated the time difference between San Antonio and San Diego. Mac was two hours ahead of him, making it 0621 for her.

Knowing Mac as well as he did, Harm knew that she would have been up at five to go for her usual run, and when she got back she would hop in the shower then devour as much greasy dead animal as she could before heading out to get an early start on the case.

Deciding that while she was devouring what would probably amount to about a pound of pork and pork by-products was the best time to catch her—Mac was a slave to her stomach—Harm grabbed his phone and started dialling.

* * *

**The Ranch**

**0625 hours**

**San Antonio, Texas**

"I cannot tell you have glad I am that you're not into all the health food crap Harm is always trying to push on me," Mac said as she and Meg sat down to breakfast complete with bacon, sausages, toast smothered in butter and jam, strong coffee, and orange juice.

"I still can't get over the fact that he's never even tried a Beltway Burger. I used to live on those," Meg smiled.

"Your basic food groups. Starch, grease, dead animal, and ketchup," Mac grinned before stabbing a chunk of sausage with her fork.

"I remember that speech," Meg replied.

Suddenly, a computer-generated rendition of _Anchors Aweigh_ came from Mac's briefcase that was sitting on the counter. Meg looked at the Marine with a raised eyebrow that Gillian Anderson would be proud of and Mac shrugged. "Personalized ring tones," was all she said before retrieving the phone and answering the call. "MacKenzie," she said, turning her back to Meg to give herself the illusion of privacy.

"Hey, Mac," Harm said sheepishly.

Even though she had known it was Harm—the ring tone gave it away—hearing his voice caused her heart to skip a beat or two. "Hey, Flyboy. Break any hearts yet?"

Harm chuckled. "Not that I know of. What about you?"

"Not yet, but it's still early in the day," Mac replied with a smile. Becoming more serious, she said, "How does it feel to be flying again?"

"Good, but I can't wait to get back to JAG," Harm said honestly. "Flying isn't my life anymore."

"So you're not going to run off and spend a few more months playing with Tomcats and shining your gold wings?" Mac asked, hoping her voice didn't betray her fear that he would do just that.

"No. After I'm done with this the only plan I plan on flying is the Stearman that's been collecting dust for the last year," Harm said.

Mac breathed a sigh of relief. She hadn't wanted to admit it aloud, but ever since Harm had taken off she had been worried that he would decide that flying was where he wanted to be and that she would never see him again. Ever since he had gotten the lazer eye surgery without telling her about it—no matter what he said, it wasn't just like getting your teeth cleaned—she had felt like every Tomcat they saw would be the straw that broke the camel's back, the snip at the ever-fraying thread that was Harm's life away from F-14 Tomcats. "Good to know," she said honestly. "So where are you, anyway? You didn't even tell me what continent you're on right now."

"I'm still on the continental United States. I'm actually at Miramar, for the moment," Harm replied.

"You're on base? Won't your mother kill you if she finds out you're opting to stay in shoddy living quarters over the beachfront wonder that she and Frank live in?"

"Usually she would, but she and Frank are travelling so the house is empty. It's too annoying a commute when I don't have the incentive of a home cooked meal waiting at the end of the road," Harm said.

"Like you haven't spent the last thirty years cooking for yourself anyway," Mac rolled her eyes. "Wait a second. You in San Diego right now… it's only four thirty one. Why aren't you sleeping? You're not flying without getting a solid night before, are you?"

"_Maaaaccc_," Harm whined. He hated it when she used her _I am **very **disappointed in you, Harmon David Rabb Jr_ voice.

"Don't you dare _Maaaaccc_ me, Harm. It's my prerogative to worry about you, Harm. I've sat at your hospital bed too many times. The thrill of counting the ceiling tiles while waiting for you to wake up from your latest emergency surgery is far past gone," Mac said firmly. "Now hang up and get some sleep. We can talk later."

"Fine. But, Mac?"

"Yeah?"

"I am sorry about not telling you I would be flying," Harm said honestly. "I wanted to… I did. But I couldn't. I don't know why. I just couldn't tell you."

Mac sighed softly. "I think I understand. And I'm not angry anymore. A little disappointed, but not mad."

Harm groaned loudly. "Crap. Disappointed is _so_ much worse than angry," he grumbled. Mac giggled, unable to help herself. "I promise I'll make it up to you, Mac."

"Mmm, I'll hold you to that, Flyboy," Mac smiled. "Get some sleep. I'll talk to you later."

"Okay. Be careful," Harm said.

"You too," Mac replied softly before whispering a goodbye and hanging up.

* * *

**Texas' JAG headquarters**

**0805 hours**

**San Antonio, Texas**

Even without Mac's uncanny and eerily accurate sense of timing Meg knew that they were late. Appointments were rarely kept to schedule during investigations, though, being the military, the structure was set in stone and those not following the 'mission outline' were not looked upon favourably.

Meg and Mac had arrived at the compound well before eight, had gotten through all the security checks without any problems, and, once Mac was checked in as an approved visitor on base, they were on their way to Meg's office where they would be conducting the interviews.

Unfortunately they had been waylaid by several reporters that weren't supposed to be on base in the first place, several other officers, and Meg's usual partner who was being sent on an investigation out of state.

Everyone wanted to know what was going on with Lleavaier and Miller.

Being that it was a JAG building filled with JAG lawyers, Mac thought that some knowledge about talking about ongoing investigations would be readily available in the memories of those who wanted news, but it seemed that, since someone from the DC office had been brought in on the investigation, the news was bigger and therefore made for juicier gossip.

"I hate being late," Mac muttered as Meg opened up her office, her assistant standing at her side with several pink slips of paper with messages on them.

"I'd think you'd be used to it, working with Harm for so long," Meg said good-naturedly.

"Yeah, you'd think," Mac said distantly.

Meg put down her briefcase and dropped her cover on top of a filing cabinet before looking at her assistant expectantly. The young enlisted woman jumped to her duties. "Commander Austin, you have calls from Commander Branch regarding the Kipling Court Marshall, Captain Sun regarding the Lawson Article 32, Captain Norton regarding the Bishop D-and-D, your mother's oncologist regarding her pain management, and an Admiral Chegwi…"

"_Chegwidden_," Mac said instantly, knowing how often people had a hard time with her CO's name.

"Chegwidden," the woman nodded, flashing Mac an appreciative smile, "regarding the Lleavaier and Miller investigation."

"Thank you, Ensign," Meg said before dismissing the woman. "I'm never going to get used to having someone take my messages," she said with a weak smile before heading to the coffeemaker she had sitting on a table across the room from her desk. "Coffee?"

"Please," Mac nodded, sitting down in a chair in front of Meg's orderly desk.

"I wonder what the Admiral wants," Meg said as she poured two cups of coffee.

Mac shrugged. She knew no one could have possibly complained about the investigation yet, as it had yet to start, and she didn't think she had pissed anyone off simply by arriving, other than maybe the poor man who was sitting next to her on the plain who had been sickened by the crime scene photos she had been flipping through while eating the meagre dinner provided by the airline.

Checking the time, Meg his SPEAKER and quickly dialled the number from memory. Coates answered almost immediately with her usual greeting.

"Admiral Chegwidden's office, JAG corp."

"This is Commander Meg Austin. I'm returning the Admiral's call regarding the Lleavaier and Miller investigation."

"One moment," Coates said.

They were put on hold and Meg looked at Mac. "She wasn't there when I was in DC, was she?"

"No. That's Jennifer Coates. The Admiral has been through a few yeomen since you left," Mac said.

Meg nodded and then the Admiral came on the line. "Congratulations on the promotion, Commander," Chegwidden said. "I'm sorry that I didn't realize you were made a full commander. I would have congratulated you when we spoke before."

"Thank you, sir," Meg blushed. Even though she had only worked under him for a few months she respected AJ Chegwidden's opinions and missed his no-nonsense attitude that meshed in a perfect paradox with his unending concern for his staff.

"Have you had a chance to speak with Colonel MacKenzie yet?" Chegwidden asked.

"She's right here with me, sir," Meg said. "We went over the basics on the investigation last night after she arrived and we are waiting on Lleavaier and Miller to arrive as we speak."

"Good morning, sir," Mac said warmly.

"Mac," Chegwidden said. They could almost hear him nod his head. "Any word from Rabb?"

"I spoke with him this morning, sir," Mac said. "He is enjoying the chance to fly again, but he said he can't wait to get back to the courtroom."

"Good. Now Mac, Meg, I don't think I have to remind either one of you that this story must not make it to the press," he said sternly, back on the official business track.

"We are doing everything we can to keep this quiet, but, as it was a civilian child that was injured it will be a story that the press will do anything to get the inside scoop on," Meg said.

"We intend on wrapping up the investigation as quickly ad quietly as possible to reduce any further ill will between the Wade family and the United States Military," Mac jumped in immediately.

"Unfortunately, sir, we have already been accosted by reporters, both local and national, regarding our investigation," Meg continued, their narrative seamless. "It might be best to release some kind of statement later today. That might assuage the press for a little while."

"Talk to the parents, find out what their standpoint on press relations is, and get back to me after you've heard the stories from all parties," Chegwidden ordered.

"Aye aye sir," they said together. Then the Admiral hung up.

Mac knew it was hard for him to run investigations from his desk when it was bound to be a public relations nightmare. If this had happened in DC or at least close to the main JAG headquarters the Admiral would have a tighter reign on things. Unfortunately they weren't around DC, and Mac could already see the case spinning out of control.

And they hadn't even spoken to the accused yet.

* * *

Half an hour after their chat with the Admiral, Meg and Mac split up to talk to Lleavaier and Miller respectively. Mac, being the senior officer of the JAG team, was interviewing Miller, while Meg interviewed Lleavaier.

Mac was sitting at a table in a conference room that she had been allotted as her office for the duration of the investigation. Miller was sitting across from her, fidgeting with her cover, clearly nervous.

"Tell me what happened," Mac said, pen poised, ready to get to the bottom of the fiasco.

Miller sat up a little straighter—a feat Mac wasn't sure was even possible—and then she started speaking. "Lleavaier and I were comin home from our TOD. We had to use civilian transport to get back to San Antonio, and it had been a long day. It was a little after six and we went through the McDonalds drive through because neither one of us felt up to cooking for one when we got to our homes. The main roads were full of rush hour traffic so we took side streets. As we passed the school… the boy came out of nowhere… we thought we hit a raccoon."

"And instead of stopping to check to see what you did hit, and to see if the 'raccoon' was alright, you sped off?" Mac asked.

"You ever tried checkin on a pissed off 'coon, ma'am?" Miller asked.

Mac ignored the question. "Who was driving the vehicle at the time?"

"I was," Miller said.

"And what is your driving record like?" Mac asked, though she had both Miller's and Lleavaier's DMV records in her briefcase.

"Not perfect, but I've never done anything like this before," Miller said honestly. "Permission to speak freely, ma'am?"

"This is still on the record," Mac cautioned. Miller nodded her understand. "Granted," Mac said.

"I'm a good driver, ma'am. I'm sure you have already checked with the DMV, or are going to, so I won't lie and say I've never been in any accidents. I have. When I was seventeen I was speeding and I hit another car. No one was seriously hurt, but it was… it took me a long time to get past the guilt I felt from that night. Joining the Navy helped me more than I ever thought possible, and I cannot lose it," Miller said. "When I felt the car go over something… I panicked. It wasn't even the same type of situation, but… I had a flashback and all I could think was 'I've gotta get outta here'."

"Have you had any kind of formal counselling regarding your earlier accident?" Mac asked.

"Yes ma'am. Both civilian and Navy," Miller said. "I've never had any problems with flashbacks before."

"A lot of the time they only crop up during times of great stress or when you are reminded intimately of the original event," Mac said, remembering the line from her own experiences with psychologists regarding her personal demons.

"Yes, ma'am, I've been told that, ma'am," Miller nodded.

Mac took a moment and then said, "What happened the next morning?"

Meg was sitting at her desk when Mac finished with Miller. "What do you think so far?" Meg asked.

"I think that this isn't going to be the quick and easy 'just to get me out of DC for a few days' case that the Admiral promised me," Mac said, sinking down into one of the chairs in front of Meg's desk.

* * *

**_Sorry about the lack of Harm in this chapter. I promise more Harm in Chapter 4._**

****

**_The Gillian Anderson reference is to the X-Files and her signature disbelieving arched eyebrow._**

****

**_The details on flashbacks are true, though it is not always the same for everyone. Some people have constant flashbacks (though that is usually seen in people who have been through war or have watched someone they care about die a violent death) and some people have flashbacks in the form of nightmares (this is the most common, though, being a nightmare, there are usually some psychological emblishments over the original trauma) but a lot of people, especially those who are in high-stress occupations (police, military, medical, judiciary areas, basically anything where lives are on the line) are able to compartmentalize what happened to them until something triggers a flashback. Triggered flashbacks are usually the most traumatic because the person is not used to dealing with them and they usually end up feeling like they are reliving the original trauma while dealing with the effects of whatever acted as a trigger._**

****

**_I've decided to name the boy Ryan. It was suggested by a reader, and I've always liked the name. I've written down the other suggestions, however, because I always have a terrible time naming characters._**

****

**_And, since I have yet to do this, I do not own JAG, it's characters, or anything else. I am not making any money off of this, and if I did own JAG et al, DJE would not be leaving at the end of the season, JAG would not be moving to San Diego, and Mic and Renee would have never become the contrivances they became on the show, and Harm and Mac would have gotten together sometime before Harm's return to flight because that's where a lot of their problems started._**

****

**_Please let me know what you think of this story so far. There are still quite a few chapters to go, including some Harm/Mac fluff and stuff._**

****

**_M_**


	4. Chapter Four

**The Ranch **

**0352 hours**

**San Antonio, Texas**

Her internal clock was busted, Mac decided when she had to actually look at the watch that usually sat useless on her wrist to find out the time. Or maybe, she thought, it was the not sleeping for so long that was messing her up. Logically she knew it was the latter, but she couldn't get her mind to shut down.

The investigation had been dragging on for ten very longdays.

After hanging on to life for over a week, Ryan Wade had died four hours and twenty-six minutes earlier.

Suddenly their hit and run—that already had too many loose ends and confusing stories—had become a homicide.

Meg had gone to the airport to pick Harm up while Mac spoke to the doctors about getting full access to Ryan Wade's medical records. The hospital had been dragging their feet, only giving her the details relevant to the accident, but a full account of Ryan's records would be required to go any further on the inquiry.

The ranch was silent, save for Mac's room where the TV was on, filling the silent room with some background noise, but Mac didn't even know what channel she had the television on. She just needed something other than the sound of pages turning to keep her company until she could talk the case out with Harm and Meg, which she knew wouldn't happen until late morning at the very least.

After reading over the transcripts of every interview for the hundredth time, Mac started over with her original interview with Miller.

And that's when it hit her.

Mac frowned. "The car went _over_ the boy?"

* * *

**SanAntonio International Airport**

**0413 hours**

**San Antonio, Texas**

Harm grabbed his bag out from the overhead compartment and joined the line of people waiting to deplane. He was exhausted, exhilarated, and nervous as hell.

He hadn't slept more than five hours in the last two weeks. Harm was lucky that the last six days of training had been tests for the new pilots, which meant that he didn't have to fly with them, or he would have probably killed someone.

The flight from LAX to San Antonio International had been quiet, and, though he had tried to get a few hours sleep, he hadn't been able to do more than close his eyes against the dim flashlight the little girl next to him was playing with. Her mother had fallen asleep before takeoff, leaving the girl, who was probably no more than four, to entertain herself.

"You look like hell, Harm," Meg said with a warm smile as she hugged him.

"That's good, 'cause I feel like shit," Harm replied.

Meg smiled as she shook her head. "When was the last time you slept?"

"Not sure, exactly," Harm said, fighting back a yawn.

"That's not a good sign," Meg frowned. "Do you have any other luggage?" Harm shook his head, unable to stop the yawn that broke through. "Okay, come on. It's about time I got you into bed."

"If I wasn't so tired I'd have to declare a red light, Meg," Harm teased.

"Right, Harm, my intentions for tonight are to take advantage of you in your weakened state, to seduce you while you're in a bedroom between my dying mother and the woman you're hopelessly in love with," Meg said, rolling her eyes. While the thought of taking advantage of the hunky sailor was slightly appealing—more the hunky sailor than the taking advantage part—jumping Harm's bones when she knew that he was in love with Mac and Mac was in love with Harm was not something she could ever even consider doing. She helped him into the car and they chatted while she drove them back to the ranch.

"Hasn't changed much," Harm commented as they pulled up in front of the house.

"Nothing surface-y, anyway," Meg agreed. "Come on. Mac's probably still up," she said as she got out of the car.

Trudging inside the house, Meg showed Harm to the room he had stayed in when he had visited before, reminded him where everything was, and then said, "Mac is right in there. Night, Harm."

Harm smiled at his former partner's antics as he dropped his bag on the bed in the guest room that he knew Meg always made sure was ready for him, should he come to visit. He changed out of the clothes he had travelled in and pulled on a pair of sweat pants and a worn tee shirt before he padded out of his room and stood in front of the door to Mac's room.

Tapping his knuckles lightly against the oak door, Harm gently turned the knob and pushed the door open. He could hear the television droning on and the quiet scratch of pen on paper, so he knew she was still awake.

"Attention; male officer on deck," he teased, causing Mac to jump.

"Damn it Harm," she said before dropping her pen and going over to him, hugging her partner tightly. He returned the embrace and they lingered in each other's arms for several minutes. "I missed you," Mac admitted shyly.

"I missed you, too," Harm said before dropping a chaste kiss on the top of her head. Mac snuggled in closer, burying her face in the curve of his neck. "I'm really sorry, Mac."

"Don't," Mac said, pulling back and pressing a finger to his lips. "We're good, Harm. You don't have to apologize anymore." She snuggled back into his arms, not wanting to lose the feeling of home that his scent and his embrace gave her.

Harm relaxed, gripping Mac a little tighter. They stood there for a long time before Harm realized that she had fallen asleep against him. He couldn't stop the smile at knowing she was asleep in his arms—though he wished they weren't standing when it happened.

Carefully as he could, Harm got Mac into bed, tucking her in and brushing his lips over her forehead before turning off the television and the lights and moving to leave. As much as he wanted to stay and hold Mac all night long, he didn't want to risk angering his beloved Marine, so he left her in her room and went back to his own, falling asleep with her scent lingering on his clothes.

* * *

**The Ranch**

**1038 hours**

**San Antonio, Texas**

It was well after ten the next morning before anyone woke up. Mac was up first, and she busied herself in the kitchen, making coffee and attempting to make breakfast—diligently mindful that Harm was there and an all-meat breakfast was out.

"Morning," Meg said through a large yawn as she came into the kitchen wearing a tank top and men's pyjama pants.

"Morning," Mac replied, already pouring two cups of strong coffee. "Sleep well?"

"Fairly," Meg said, gratefully taking the mug Mac offered. "You? Did you actually get any sleep last night?"

"Quite a bit, actually," Mac smiled.

"So the insomnia _**was**_ Harm-based," Meg smiled.

Mac blushed. "Maybe a little. Or a lot. I get so worried when he gets around Tomcats. But I've had insomnia since I was a kid. Whenever I have a big case or when I know I'm going to have to deal with something huge or… when I'm worried about someone I care about as deeply as I care for Harm… I don't sleep. It's something I've been dealing with since I was little," Mac said, and that was the end of the discussion.

Harm came down a few minutes later, screwing up his nose at the sizzling meat-products. "How can you two eat that crap?" he asked as he poured himself some coffee.

"Easily. Open mouth, insert food, close mouth, chew, swallow. Same way you eat your rabbit food," Mac said with a sassy smile.

"Cute doesn't work with me, Marine," Harm said, shooting words she had said to him after making up from their very first fight.

"I wasn't being cute, I was being funny," Mac shot back, using the words he had used to respond to her on that night so many years ago.

Meg groaned loudly. "It's far too early to watch you two flirting. I'm going to take a shower," she declared before leaving with her coffee still in hand. Harm and Mac avoided eye contact with each other until Mrs. Austin's nurse came in with fresh medical supplies in hand.

* * *

**JAG Headquarters**

**1234 hours**

**San Antonio, Texas**

Later, sitting in the conference room that had been covered in files and papers that were organized in Mac's usual manner, Meg and Mac took turns filling Harm in on the case. He already knew the big picture—eight-year-old boy killed by massive trauma caused by impact with speeding motor vehicle driven by Naval officers—but he didn't know the details, and it was the details that were what made up the big picture.

After playing the tapes of their interviews with all involved parties, going over the medical reports and the results the lab had given them on the blood that was found on the car, and outlining the theories they had already worked through, Mac brought up her late-night revelation.

"I didn't think much of it before, but Miller said that Ryan went under the car," Mac said.

"So?" Meg frowned.

"So we need to take a look at the car," Harm said, knowing where Mac was going with her line of thought.

* * *

**Crime Lab Garage**

**Active Case Storage Centre**

**1305 hours**

**San Antonio, Texas**

Glad she had chosen not to wear a skirt that morning, Mac knelt down to peer under the car. She had a flashlight in her hand that helped some, but it was hard to make out some of the key things she was looking for.

"You gonna tell me what we're looking for, or am I supposed to guess?" Meg, who was kneeling down next to her, asked.

"Miller said that the boy went under the car, that it felt like going over a speedbump," Mac said, standing up and dusting off her knees. "Ryan Wade would have come up to here," she said, holding her hand about two feet off the top of the front bumper, "if he was standing up to his full height. Considering the speed Miller claims they were averaging and Ryan's height… he should have been thrown up over the hood and into the windshield like an adult would. But he was dragged under, like a small animal would have been."

"So… he wasn't standing?" Meg asked.

"He couldn't have been," Harm said. "If he had been standing when he was hit, he would have done up over the hood and smashed into the windshield or gone over the top of the car."

"Why didn't anyone comment on this before?" Meg frowned, frantically searching the results they had been given from CSI on the car.

"It was commented on," Mac said. "The windshield was intact, the hood wasn't damaged, and all the blood that was found was under the car and on the lower half of the front bumper. But we've been focusing on what _Miller_ and _Lleavaier_ did. People investigating their first case don't go at things from as stilted a point of view as we have," she said. It was obvious she was kicking herself for automatically making assumptions about the case and running with them.

"Have we got anything on the boy that doesn't pertain to the accident?" Harm asked, hoping to distract both Meg from her anger with herself and Mac from her self-recriminations.

"You're thinking that it wasn't an accident?" Meg asked.

"I'm thinking that we've got square pegs and round holes so maybe it's time to start thinking outside the box," Harm said.

* * *

**Madhouse Family Restaurant**

**2119 hours**

**San Antonio, Texas**

Thinking outside the box, it turned out, had the lawyers all over town, frantically trying to find the truth under all the secrets and lies. Mac couldn't help but think that it was a little like dealing with Clayton Webb and his CIA _'I would tell you but then I'd have to kill you or make you pay through the nose for the rest of your natural life'_ crap. You had to dig down through about a mile of subterfuge, a few yards of dead ends, and several feet of just plain bullshit to get even a glimpse of the truth. However, unlike their encounters with Clay, what they were doing in San Antonio wasn't putting their lives on the line and they knew they were looking for the truth behind the case and not the truth behind what brought them to the case. That was a comfort, no matter how small.

Knowing the score was sometimes half the battle.

They had decided to call it a night around nine and were going to get a late dinner before going back to the ranch and crashing, but Meg got a call from her CO _'requesting her presence'_ which was easily translated to _'get your ass in my office now!'_ so she begged out of dinner, leaving them with the car and saying she'd try to meet up with them at the restaurant.

Harm and Mac had no problem with the idea of dining together, especially after a two-week separation.

After sitting down at the table and ordering drinks—two Cokes—Mac looked at Harm, trying to decide if she should just jump right in an start asking questions or if she should ease into the conversation.

Harm, however, was never the _look before you leap_ type, and jumped right in with a question of his own. "What made you take this case, Mac? Was it assigned to you, or did you just want to get out of DC or what?"

Mac shrugged slightly. "I was a little pissed at you for leaving like you did, and I had this really strong urge to take that sledge hammer you used to knock out a wall in your place to trash everything you owned. Fortunately Harriet asked me to baby sit little AJ so your belongings are, as far as I know, still intact," Mac said. "Meg called the Admiral, wanting your help, actually, but since you were playing Professor Pilot-Guy he told her to call me. And when she told me what was known about the accident… I don't know. There was something that bugged me. So I took care of my pending cases and got on a plane."

"Why would she want my help?" Harm frowned.

"Well, for one, because she's worked with you before and knows that you're good at what you do," Mac said. Harm blushed slightly and Mac wondered if it was because of the compliment—which didn't make sense to her because she knew he knew he was good at his job and she had said that to him before—or because the compliment was coming from her—which she hoped was the case. "And, also, because she misses you," Mac continued.

"Meg is too professional to let long-distance friendships determine who she partners herself with," Harm said.

"Whatever," Mac shrugged. "So, what was it like, flying again?" she asked. She knew she was torturing herself, but she had to know.

"It was… fun, but not something I can see myself getting serious about again," Harm said honestly. "Like I said on the phone, Mac, flying Tomcats is not who I am anymore, and I'm alright with that. I knew that flying wasn't my destiny when I came back from the Patrick Henry."

"But being a JAG lawyer is?" Mac asked.

"I don't know if it is," Harm admitted. "But I love my job, I love my friends, I love working with you, and for the first time in years I'm… happy with where my life is heading."

"Then that's all that matters," Mac said with a smile. "And, for the record, I love working with you, too."

"I figured, but it's good to hear once in a while," Harm said, flashing her one of his famous smiles.

The waiter brought their drinks and they decided it was time to crack the menus. Mac decided on a thick steak and a Cesar salad while Harm opted for grilled salmon and rice pilaf.

Once the waiter had left and they were alone again, Mac said, "Why have you never told me that you kept in touch with Meg?"

Harm tensed up and then found a way to control his expressions and said, "I never really thought about it. I mean, it's not like you don't have other friends, right? You've kept in touch with people you worked with before. And you don't always tell me about those aspects of your personal life."

"True," Mac conceded. "I… I'm sorry," she said gently. "I'm not sure why it bothers me so much. That you never told me. Maybe… maybe it's because anytime I ask anyone anything about Meg I get something along the lines of _'she was a great lawyer'_ or '_I wish she didn't transfer out like that… no offence, Mac'_ and even though I've been at JAG for several years and she was only there for ten months I'm still treated like a temp."

"No one treats you like a temp, Mac," Harm said, reaching out and covering her hand with his own. His touch was electric and Mac turned her hand over so that their palms were pressed together. "I have never thought of you as a temp or a replacement or anything like that. You're my partner and my best friend and I'm really sorry if I've don't anything to make you think otherwise."

"It's not so much you, Harm. You're great, really, and I know you don't think of me as a temp or anything like that," Mac said. "It's just… I don't know. Besides you, Bud, Harriet, and the Admiral I don't really… I mean… I'm not too great at the whole 'being friends' thing. Growing up I was more or less alone until I met Eddie and we were only drinking buddies… and then Chris was… I don't even know what he was… and then I was a Marine and you're not exactly encouraged to become friends with the people you're fighting beside because then emotions get involved and if something happens to them you react emotionally instead of rationally…" she trailed off, closing her eyes tightly for a moment. "Honestly, Harm, you are the first true friend I've ever had. You've stuck by my side through so much. My relapse, Mic, all the horrible work shit… you're always there for me. And… maybe I'm scared."

"Of what?" Harm asked gently, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze.

"I'm scared that you'll realize that you miss working with Meg, that you want her to be your partner again," Mac said. She looked up at him, her eyes meeting his. "That I'll be forgotten."

Harm got up and moved so he was kneeling beside Mac's chair. He pulled her down so she was sitting on his knees and he wrapped his arms around her tightly. "That will never happen, Sarah," he said firmly. He made sure she was looking into his eyes. "Never," he repeated.

"But—"

"No," Harm said, putting a finger to her plump lips, silencing the Marine. "You are my partner, Mac. I do miss working with Meg, but she has a life here and even if she were to come back to DC I wouldn't stop working with you. And the only way I could possibly forget you is if I get amnesia, and even if that highly unlikely event does come to pass I know you'll be right by my side until I remember every fight and every smile." Moving his finger from her lips he used his hand to dry the tears that had started trailing down her cheeks. "It's time to face facts. You, Sarah Catherine MacKenzie, are stuck with me for the rest of your life."

Mac buried her face in his neck. "I like the sound of that, sailor," she whispered as she hugged Harm with all her strength.

Their waiter came over with their food, but saw the embrace and turned on his heel, heading back to the kitchen.

They stayed that way for a few more minutes before Harm's legs began to protest loudly and he reluctantly eased Mac back up into her chair. He dropped a lingering kiss on her forehead and made sure that all tear-tracks were erased with his tender caresses before taking his own seat again. The waiter reappeared and placed their food in front of them before slipping away, virtually unnoticed.

"I'm sorry, Harm. I don't know why I suddenly broke down like that," Mac said, her flawless skin turning a deep red.

"It's like I told you when we were in the Appalachians," Harm said. "Stress needs an outlet. And, apparently you've been living with this particular fear for a long time, so you were headed for a major meltdown. I'm just glad you didn't run away from me when it happened."

Mac smiled sadly. "I hate it when you see my cry," she admitted.

"Well, I'm not saying I enjoy you being in pain, because I don't," Harm said. "It kills me to see you hurting so much, Mac," he said, reaching across the table and cupping her cheek tenderly. Mac leaned into his hand. "But it means so much to me that you feel safe enough around me to let your guard down, to let your emotions come through. Knowing that you trust me that much means the world to me."

"I trust you with everything I have, Harm," Mac said softly. "My work, my emotions, my thoughts, my feelings, my worries, my life."

"What about your heart?" Harm asked before he could stop himself.

* * *

**_The next update is almost finished. Please let me know what you think about this chapter. Oh, and the rating on this may change... I'm honestly not entirelysure where my muse is taking the Harm and Mac relationship. It might be in a continued friendship, it might be in opposite directions (though I doubt it) or it might be the bedroom... for now only my muse knows what's going to happen in upcoming chapters._**

**_M_**


	5. Chapter Five

**Madhouse Family Restaurant**

**2146 hours**

**San Antonio, Texas**

"I trust you with everything I have, Harm," Mac said softly. "My work, my emotions, my thoughts, my feelings, my worries, my life."

"What about your heart?" Harm asked before he could stop himself.

Mac tensed up and Harm immediately pulled his hand away, averting his eyes and trying to find a safer subject. They had danced around the topic of furthering their relationship for so many years that it was instinct to continue in that fashion.

However, Mac didn't want to hide from her feelings anymore.

"You have had every part of me since the Rose Garden, Harm. Mind, heart, and soul," Mac said.

"I thought it was supposed to be 'mind, body and soul'," Harm said.

"It is, and you could have had that, too, since you first flashed me that smile of yours," Mac admitted. "Harm, we've been dancing around… around _us_ for so long… and whenever we get close to stopping and truly talking about our feelings one of us gets their heart ripped out because things aren't said or because of circumstances or whatever. I'm sick of dancing. I'm going to lay it all on the line here, and I don't want you to interrupt me. If I don't get this all out now I don't know if I ever will."

Harm nodded and kept his mouth shut.

"I'm sick of denying the fact that sometimes I want nothing more than to curl up in your arms and stay there for the rest of my life. I'm sick of being your best friend and wondering if one day one of the blonde bimbos you seem to favour will manage to get you to commit to them completely. I'm sick of watching you with other women, of being jealous whenever someone starts hitting on you, of not being able to say to the world that you are taken, that you are mine. I'm tired of thinking about you all the time, wondering what you're doing and who you're doing it with," Mac said. "I want to be with you, Harm. I want to have a life with you. As more than your friend, your partner. But my feelings for you… I can't do it halfway. I know it's a lot to ask, but if we do anything we need to be one hundred percent invested in this relationship. And, even though it's not one of our strong suits, we need to keep the lines of communication open at all times. What we have… or, what we _could_ have, rather, is too special to be ruined by a lack of communication." Mac stopped and took a sip of water and didn't start talking again.

"Can I talk now?" Harm asked.

"Yes, you can," Mac said, blushing slightly.

Harm smiled. "Good," he said before reaching for her hand and lacing their fingers together. "I have to admit that when I first saw you, I thought you were Diane. But once I realized that you were just someone who looked eerily like her, I put all my effort into seeing the real you instead of the confusing Diane-double," Harm said honestly. "When we stopped at that gas station and traded our car for that beat up old truck and I saw you in that little sundress I saw you, the real you, for the first time. And I fell for you. Hard. And then we started working together and I got to know the details, the things that make you who you are, I got scared because I had never felt that much for one person in my life. So, because I didn't want to ruin our friendship with the added awkwardness of me hitting on you, I tried to be with women who were your polar opposite. But the fact that they were nothing like you just made me… pull away from them, I guess. And then I got my act together and I was ready to lay it all on the line and you start talking bridesmaid dresses and honeymoon locations with Mic. You're completely right about us not communicating well. Maybe it's because we both lost people we loved at young ages. Or maybe it's the fact that we're both lawyers and we are trained to keep incriminating evidence away from opposing council. Or maybe it's because of our military lifestyles. Or maybe it's a combination of all the above plus more elements that I haven't even thought about. But I think we're communicating pretty well right now, don't you?"

"We're doing okay," Mac said with a smile. She looked around the restaurant and noticed that it was quickly emptying out. "Why don't we get out of here… go somewhere more private to talk some more," she suggested.

Harm pulled out his wallet and dropped some bills on the table to cover their uneaten dinner and then he placed his hand on the small of Mac's back and led her out to the car.

Stopping at the door to the car, Harm put his hands to Mac's cheeks tenderly, framing her face with his warm touch. "I didn't get to say the one thing I really wanted to back there, and I can't wait any longer to say it now," Harm said as he moved one hand back to tangle in her hair. "I love you, Sarah MacKenzie. I love because you're my best friend and I love you because you are the woman I want to spend my life with. When I imagine my future I see myself married to you, living in a house with an actual yard and a bunch of happy children running around, knowing that both their parents are going to be home in time for dinner and that nothing bad can happen to them. My favourite dream is of lying in bed with you, my hand resting on your stomach, our child growing inside of you. I want to be with you, Sarah, and I refuse to hide that fact any longer."

Mac's eyes filled with tears for the second time that night, only this time her tears were happy ones. "God, Harm, I love you, too," she said, wrapping her arms around his neck and clinging to him with everything she had. "I want that, Harm. The house and the yard and the marriage and the kids. I want you to hold me and I want you to be the father of my children and I want you to be my husband," she declared. "I love you so much, Harm," she whispered into his neck.

They stood there for several minutes, just holding each other, loving each other, enjoying the fact that they had finally opened up about their feelings and that they no longer had to hide their love from each other. Mac turned her head to the side and brushed her lips against Harm's earlobe before taking the sensitive lobe into her mouth. Harm groaned loudly and pulled back only far enough so that he could look into her eyes for confirmation. She nodded and Harm leaned down and kissed her slowly, sliding his tongue between her lips and past her teeth and exploring her mouth thoroughly. His body moved even closer to hers and Mac soon found herself pressed against the car. She kissed him back with every ounce of passion she had for him and groaned when she realized that the poking in her belly was from Harm's growing erection. Knowing that she was the cause of his arousal made Mac groan into Harm's mouth and wetness gushed between her legs.

Breathless and longing for more contact they broke the kiss and took several deep breaths without moving their bodies away from each other.

"Wow," Mac said after she caught her breath.

"Yeah," Harm agreed, leaning down and brushing his lips over hers before leaning his forehead against Mac's. "God, I've wanted to do that for so long, Sarah," he said huskily, his voice uttering her given name like a caress.

"No regrets?" Mac asked.

"Only that I didn't do it sooner," Harm said before capturing her lips again. He moved one of his hands around to unbutton her coat, needing to touch more the fabric of her military-issue raincoat. Sliding his hands over her sides and stomach, caressing her shapely body though her summer-light uniform, Harm moved his lips down her neck.

The feeling of Harm's hands on her body and his lips and teeth and tongue playing on her neck drove Mac crazy. She knew that they shouldn't be doing what they were; especially not in a public area while they were both wearing their uniforms, but there was no way she was going to stop Harm from doing what he was doing to her. All Mac could manage to do was moan and press her belly against Harm's erection and give herself over to the feelings she had only dreamt about. She knew from the moment they met that he would be as passionate in his personal life as he was in the courtroom. But she never knew what it would feel like to have all that passion directed solely at her. Mac idly thought that it was a good thing she was trapped between the car and Harm's body because the things Harm was making her feel were making her swoon for the first time in her entire life.

Harm's warm hands moved down to her waist and slowly and methodically slid under her drab uniform shirt, the first touch of skin-on-usually-hidden-skin. He groaned loudly when he realized what wonderful skin it really was. Harmon Rabb Jr was by no means an innocent virgin, but the moment he slid his hand under Mac's top and slowly started working his way up to her lace-covered breasts, he felt like he was some untried high school loser who was praying his date would let him cop a feel before he walked her home in time for curfew.

Since their current combined logic was about as useful as a newspaper over you head during a monsoon they were both shocked when Harm couldn't quite get the fabric, that had no give whatsoever, to allow him access to her breasts. He was less than an inch away and the words 'so close yet so far' immediately sprang to both their minds.

They looked at each other for a minute and then the situation sunk in and they both started laughing. They were standing in the middle of a well-lit parking lot outside what was considered a 'family restaurant'. He had her pressed up against Meg's Navy-issue fleet sedan. Her coat was halfway down her arms and his hand was stuck inside her uniform top. Her hands were under the waistband of his pants, one under his boxers and one trying to get under his boxers, both cupping his amazing six in her hot little hands. She could feel the evidence of her arousal running down her thighs, soaking the crotch of her uniform pants. And he was so hard from just a few kisses that he was sure he had more restraint when he was a horny teenager.

"Maybe we should get out of here," Mac said, easing her hands from Harm's pants. He disentangled himself from her clothing and then he handed her the keys. "I assume this means you're too distracted to drive," she teased, unlocking the door for him, pressing her rear into his crotch for a moment before moving around to the driver's side and slipping behind the wheel. She started the car and put it in gear, pulling out of the parking lot and pointing the car in the direction of the ranch.

"We're going to have to have a long talk about where this is going," Harm said logically as he thought about certain topics—crashing in a Tomcat, listening to Bud go on about Harriet's sore nipples from nursing, having to deal with Allison Krennik again—to tramp down his arousal at least enough to be comfortable. Krennik seemed to work the best.

"Naturally," Mac nodded. She had certain topics of her own running through her mind—the memory of waiting for word on Harm after his crash, drying out in Red Rock Mesa, the memory of the pain of being shot in the thigh by the psychotic poachers—to try to temper her own desire.

"And we're going to have to talk to Chegwidden about work," Harm continued, focusing on Krennik as she seemed to be a highly effective tool to reverse the effects of Mac's body against his.

"The sooner the better, I think," Mac agreed.

"And we'll have to decide what we tell everybody," Harm finished.

"That one will be a bit tougher," Mac said. She wanted to tell the world that Harmon Rabb Jr loved her, and that she loved him, but Mac knew that there were people who not only could but would use their relationship against them.

Harm reached over and laced his fingers with hers. "We'll find a way," he said, so sure of himself that Mac couldn't do anything but believe him.

* * *

**The Ranch**

**2200**

**San Antonio, Texas**

Mac turned off the car and pulled the keys from the ignition before unbuckling her seatbelt and shifting her body so she was facing Harm. "What's the plan?" she asked.

"Plan?" Harm asked as he turned towards her.

"Are we going to talk… or not talk… or go our separate ways and wait until we're home to do anything?" Mac asked.

"Well… as much as I want to make love to you right now," Harm said, reaching across and caressing her cheek with his thumb, "I want out first night to be special."

"Me, too," Mac said softly. "And as much as I want to talk this out right now… if I get you alone in a bedroom right now I'm positive I won't be able to be a good little girl."

Harm laughed at that and leaned over and stole a kiss. "How about we just wait until we get home before we do anything that could get… loud," he suggested.

Mac smiled and nodded. "We can wait to be loud. But I reserve the right to kiss you whenever and wherever I want." Harm raised an eyebrow at that. "Within reason," Mac amended.

"As long as I get the same right," Harm said, leaning in close and brushing his lips over hers.

"Mmmm, that is definitely a right we can share," Mac said with a dreamy smile. They sat in the car for a long time, trading kisses and innocent caresses, both taking their decision to wait until they were home to take their relationship further very seriously.

Neither one of them noticed when a slim blonde Naval Lawyer got out of a cab and took a long look at them before rushing into the house, her hand over her mouth to muffle her sobs.

* * *

**JAG Headquarters**

**0600 hours**

**San Antonio, Texas**

Meg sat behind her desk in her cramped office, her head pounding, her spirits sinking, and her day heading from bad to worse.

After getting reamed out by her CO for not looking into other possibilities for who was at fault for the car accident, Meg had taken a taxi home, hoping to get the chance to talk to Harm or Mac about how they had ended up going at the case from such a skewed point of view, only to find Harm and Mac trading kisses in her Navy fleet sedan. Despite the fact that she had wanted them to get together, Meg had been hoping that they would have waited a little longer so that they could all keep their heads clear until the end of the investigation. Also, she had to admit that a rather large part of her wanted Harm for herself, though she knew that his heart belonged to Mac and always would.

She hadn't seen either one of them that morning, taking a friend's truck so she could get to work early and get a head start on some of the paper work she had let go by the wayside over the past few days. Meg knew she should have taken it home and done it before going to bed the night before, but she hadn't even felt up to losing herself in official forms and reports like she used to when she needed to get away from the world for a while.

Her mother was nearing the end of her life, the doctors all agreeing that two months was a generous estimate. Admiral Chegwidden had been trying to get her back to DC for a while and Texas just didn't hold the same appeal it once had for her, so Meg was planning on making a move, but she didn't want to leave until her mother was at peace.

The case was dragging on. The Wade family was being torn apart—Meg had a message from Ryan's mother saying that she and her husband had separated—and both Miller and Lleavaier were being targeted by others on the base who were calling them murders despite the lack of evidence. Plus the media had been particularly interested in the case and a friend of Meg's at ZNN told her that if they didn't get an interview by the end of the day there would be reporters on her, Mac, and Harm twenty-four-seven until they got their story. It wasn't a big deal for Meg, who could easily slip away from reporters—she had in the past—but, being virtual unknowns, and therefore strnagers who would stick out because they were unknowns,in San Antonio, Harm and Mac would be easily recognized as the JAG lawyers investigating the death of Ryan Wade and they wouldn't have time to enjoy their new relationship because they wouldn't be able to risk it being caught on film. Blackmail material was becoming easier and easier to get as technology advanced.

The message in her hand was the worst news she had received all morning, however.

* * *

_I'm gona leave it there for now. I hope I didn't disappoint anyone with not having Harm and Mac jump right into bed, but, other than the fact that I think they should take things a little slower than just going right to the 'screwing each others brains out' stage, I also wanted to keep with their characters and not have them disrespect Meg or her dying mother by going at it in the next room._

_Please let me know what you thought of this chapter._

_M_


	6. Chapter Six

**JAG Headquarters**

**0652 hours**

**San Antonio, Texas**

Harm knocked on the door to Meg's office as Mac headed down to the conference room that was their 'office' for the duration of the investigation. He would have gone down with her to get a head start on finding some new leads, but Harm was worried about Meg. He hadn't seen her the night before and she had left for work before he even woke up that morning, leaving a note by the coffee pot saying she was going in early to get some paperwork out of the way.

Normally that wouldn't have been a big deal. Meg had always done paperwork to get other things off her mind—which had always greatly benefited Harm because he hated being a pencil-pusher, even for the briefest amounts of time—but Harm knew that, with all the things that were going on in Meg's life at that moment with the case and her mother and everything, she should talk to someone and not bury her feelings like she had a tendency to do. Not that he could claim to be innocent of burying feelings instead of talking about them.

But Harm trusted his instincts, and Meg's whole attitude was giving him a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"Enter," Meg said tiredly. Harm opened the door and dropped into a chair in front of her desk, looking at his former partner expectantly. Meg stared him down for a minute before asking, "What's up?"

"That's my question," Harm said.

"Funny, I didn't hear you asking it," Meg said.

"Didn't think I would have to," Harm said with a slight shrug.

Meg narrowed her eyes and frowned. "Harm, what is it? You're scaring me a little here."

"Sorry. That's not my intention," Harm said. He looked at her for a long moment and then he said, "I need you to talk to me, Meg."

"About?"

"Whatever it is that's bothering you," Harm said. "And don't say that it's your mother and don't say that it's the case, because I know you and whatever is going on is bigger than that."

Meg pushed herself away from her desk and stood up, crossing the small room to grab a book from the shelves that lined the opposite wall. "I really don't want to talk about it, Harm. It's not affecting my work and I don't want to burden you with my issues. I've done enough of that already."

"I don't feel burdened," Harm said honestly.

"You should," Meg said softly, finding the reference she was looking for and making a note of it on a Post-It before replacing the book carefully.

Harm studied Meg for a minute before giving up. Whatever was bothering her wasn't physically obvious. He hadn't thought it would be—he would have noticed it before—but he felt that he had to make sure. "Just answer a few questions of the 'yes or no' variety," he said plaintively.

"If that'll get you to drop this, fine," Meg said, sitting back down and sticking the yellow Post-It to the edge of her computer's monitor before turning her attention to the aviator.

Harm relaxed a little. She wasn't blocking him out completely. That was a good sign.

"Is the ranch in trouble?" Harm asked, starting off there because it was easy and he knew how much the ranch meant to her. It was her last link to her father.

"No. The ranch is fine," Meg said. "But you know that. You're the one who got everything moved out of mom's name and into mine."

"I'm just starting off easy here, Meg," Harm said.

"Don't. We have a case to investigate," Meg said. Her tone was uncharacteristically cold.

Harm's bad feeling grew exponentially.

"Was your meeting with your CO really that bad last night?" Harm asked. He knew how important her career in the Navy was to Meg, and hoped that she wasn't catching too much flack over the lack of success to the investigation.

"Not as bad as I thought it would be," Meg admitted. "Probably not as bad as you and Mac are gonna get it from Chegwidden when you check in with him," she added.

Harm cringed. He'd forgotten to check in with the Admiral when he got to San Antonio. And he knew Mac had forgotten to send along an update on the case.

He recovered quickly, though, knowing that Meg was trying to divert his attention from her. He would worry about Admiral Chegwidden later. Meg was more important than saving his six from the SEAL's anger.

"So the ranch is safe and work isn't the problem… you're not sick, are you?" Harm asked, an iron fist grabbing his heart while he waited for her answer. Meg was one of his best friends and he couldn't stand the thought of losing her.

Meg shook her head. "I'm not sick."

Harm breathed a sigh of relief before asking his next question. "Are you having… relationship issues?" Harm asked awkwardly.

"If you mean am I in a relationship, no. If that's considered a relationship issue, then, yes, you could say I'm having relationship issues. But that's not what's bothering me," Meg said.

"Then what is it? Meg, come on. You can tell me what's bothering you," Harm said.

Meg took a slow breath, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly. She knew she could trust Harm and she did want to talk about what was bothering her.

"Okay, I'll tell you, but you have to promise not to interrupt me or that's it," Meg said sternly. Harm nodded and shut his mouth, too happy that Meg was going to open up to him to risk saying something to shut her down.

"It's like this…" Meg said.

* * *

_Not my best chapter, I know, and definitely not the longest, but what is going on with Meg is so huge that I want to up the suspence a little._

_Don't worry, Meg isn't going to go insane and evil with jealousy. I couldn't make her act like that if I tried._

_And, for those of you who have been wanting a Harm/Meg story, I've posted the first chapter of PALL which is something I've been toying around with for a while now._

_Any guesses about what is going on with Meg are welcome. If someone guesses correctly I'll post the chapter right away. If not, well... there will be a delay._

_I swear I didn't mean for that to rhyme._

_M_


	7. Chapter Seven

**JAG Headquarters**

**0615 hours**

**San Antonio, Texas**

Meg took a slow breath, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly. She knew she could trust Harm and she did want to talk about what was bothering her.

"Okay, I'll tell you, but you have to promise not to interrupt me or that's it," Meg said sternly. Harm nodded and shut his mouth, too happy that Meg was going to open up to him to risk saying something to shut her down.

"It's like this…" Meg said. "When I left JAG… I was… kinda pregnant."

"_Kinda_?" Harm asked sceptically. "How were you _kinda_ pregnant?"

"I _was_ pregnant. Three months, give or take a week," Meg said. "I didn't even know until after I woke up after I was shot… I almost lost her before I even knew about her… and then mom got sick and, well, coming here seemed like the best thing to do for everyone."

Harm, though happy for his friend, was angry and hurt. "You have a daughter and you never told me?" he asked, making no effort to hide how much her secret hurt him.

"I… didn't know how I could," Meg said lamely. "I found out and everything was so weird at work with Krennik and the shooting and all the investigations we were getting and… and then you went on your little sailing expedition with whatever her name is and you ended up being tortured… and then there was that whole ordeal with Dianne… and there just didn't seem to be a right time."

"And since then? I've been to see you at least twenty times; we've talked on the phone at least once a week since you left DC," Harm said.

Meg nodded and then looked down at her hands. "I can't count the number of times I picked up the phone… even dialled your number," she said honestly. "A few times I got your machine and… I couldn't tell your answering machine what I wasn't even sure I could tell you in person. A few other times women would answer or you would but there would be a female voice in the background and… I lost my nerve."

"Who… I mean, I didn't… I didn't know you were… seeing anyone… before," Harm said somewhat awkwardly. He could ask total strangers about their sex lives in a court of law but one of his best friends left him tongue-tied when it came to who was the father of her baby.

"I wasn't seeing anyone," Meg said. "An old boyfriend from college came for a visit… we had some wine… and things got carried away… and nine months later I'm screaming bloody murder and using language that would make the hardcorest of sailors blush."

She opened a drawer and pulled out a framed photograph. "This is Lily Aurora Kayla Austin," Meg said.

"Why Lily?" Harm asked as he looked at the picture. It looked just like Meg did in the few baby pictures he'd caught glimpses of over the years.

"It's kinda corny, but every time her father would pick me up for a date he would bring me a lily. It was a thing between us… and I wanted her to have something of her daddy's," Meg said.

"That's not corny. That's incredibly sweet," Harm said. "I'm assuming that her father isn't involved with her life."

"Not in the strictest of senses," Meg nodded. "He pays for her schooling and I send him her school picture every year at Christmas. They've never met, though. When I told him that I was pregnant he wanted proof that the baby was his—like I was sleeping with the entire male population of the Navy and I'd decided that he was the easiest mark for child support payments or something. Completely ruined our friendship. We haven't spoken since I handed him the paternity test results."

"I'm sorry," Harm said softly. He knew what it was like to grow up without a father—they both did—but he couldn't imagine never even getting to meet your father.

Meg shrugged. "It's better this way. He's not the 'daddy' type, and he's the type of guy who, if he did settle down and have kids, he would have his wife stay home and do the whole 'wife in the fifties' deal. Not really my scene."

"Though the idea of you in an apron and pearls is intriguing," Harm smirked. Meg threw a balled up piece of paper at his head, hitting him in the forehead. "That was mature," he said, picking up the paper and tossing it in the trash.

"I try," Meg smiled, albeit briefly. "Mom and I didn't want her to be around to watch her grandmother die, so Lily goes to a boarding school in Huston. I hate being away from her all the time, especially since she's so young, but I remember when my dad was sick… watching him slowly fade away was torture. I never want my daughter to feel that way."

"She won't," Harm promised, putting the frame on Meg's desk. "Is Lily the reason you had me set up that trust fund clause in your mother's will?" Meg nodded. "You could have told me about Lily when you had me do that," Harm pointed out.

"Please, I can't deal with a guilt trip on top of everything else right now," Meg said plaintively.

Harm sobered up immediately. Something was rotten in the state of Texas, and Harm as determined to find out what. "Meg, did something happen to your daughter?"

"I've been getting… notes… threats, I guess, for a few months now," Meg said. She couldn't see any reason to keep it a secret any longer. "I got this with my messages this morning," she added, handing Harm the note she had clutched in her hand since reading it almost two hours before.

* * *

**JAG Headquarters**

**0751 hours**

**San Antonio, Texas**

"Damn it, Harm, where the hell are you?" Mac muttered after taking another lap of the conference table that she had already circled a dozen times. Without Harm there to bounce ideas off of the droning hum of the fluorescent lights was her only companion. To take her mind off of Harm she spent several minutes seriously wondering about how stable the mental state and how high the intelligence levels were of the people who had decided it would be a good idea to put annoying fluorescent lights in office buildings, hospitals, schools, and pretty much every public building in seventy percent of the populated world.

Even accounting for her partner's tendency to be late, Mac couldn't see why it was taking so long for Harm to leave Meg's office. He had promised half an hour, tops. But, then again, Mac didn't think that whatever was bothering Meg Austin would be easily extracted from the unassuming woman. Meg looked like the girl next door, yet, since arriving in Texas, Mac had learned that the slim blonde was anything but an innocent little girl.

Mac was about two seconds from paging him when she realized that, had the night before not happened, she wouldn't have been so worried. It would have just been Harm being Harm. And one of the things that Mac had promised herself before entering into a relationship with Harmon Rabb Jr was that their new status would not change their working relationship.

Armed with that thought Mac stopped acting like the worried girlfriend and started acting like a lawyer and a logical woman.

"They probably just went out for coffee," Mac said aloud, the conference room eerily quiet.

Deciding that Harm had taken Meg out for coffee so they could talk away from the prying eyes and ears at JAG—she of all people knew how quickly rumours and scuttlebutt flew through a JAG office—Mac settled in for some heavy-duty reading.

The school had sent Ryan Wade's files to the office and Mac had picked them up that morning. The file was fairly thick, which intrigued Mac because Ryan had only started there in September.

Ten pages into the file Mac hit paydirt.

* * *

_Like I said before, Meg will not be evil and she will not try to tear Harm and Mac apart._

_Sorry for the cliffhanger chapterfollowing a cliffhanger chapter, especially since this chpater was a double cliffie._

_What did you think?_

_M_


	8. Chapter Eight

**_WARNING: This chapter deals with some unpleasant topics. The rating has been changed accordingly._**

* * *

**JAG Headquarters**

**0800 hours **

**San Antonio, Texas**

"I've been getting… notes… threats, I guess, for a few months now," Meg said. She couldn't see any reason to keep it a secret any longer. "I got this with my messages this morning," she added, handing Harm the note she had clutched in her hand since reading it almost two hours before.

Harm took the note from Meg's shaking fingers and unfolded it carefully.

**_I know you know what I did to those kids, Lieutenant Commander Austin, and I know you know there are other victims that the FBI hasn't connected to me yet. Tell anyone what you know and I do the same to your daughter. _**

It was pretty standard, as far as death threats go, but the fact that the threat was against an innocent little girl made him want to put his fist through a wall. Or through the face of the author of the note. Either would suffice, though the latter held more appeal.

"Do you know who sent this?" Harm asked.

Meg nodded. "Three years ago I investigated a case that involved an eight year old girl who was… mutilated is the only way to describe what was done to her, and even that falls short. She was the granddaughter of a three star General who was awarded more medals after Vietnam than his chest can hold. Her father was a Naval Captain who was deployed on a carrier at the time. Her mother was the aid to a Senator and she spent a lot of time in and out of Washington. The girl, Sylvie Cotton, was raised by a nanny until she got old enough to go to an elite boarding school in England. She was home for summer break… she was playing in the park with her dog… and she attacked her," she said softly, her eyes filling with tears.

"Who?" Harm pressed gently.

"It was never proven for sure, but our prime suspect was a dishonourably discharged Lieutenant who had been a father in the Navy and a mother who died when she was only a few months old. Her father had sent her to boarding school year round so that he could stay in the Navy and not worry about her all the time," Meg said. "I worked with the FBI's Violent Crimes Unit because, apparently, Sylvie Cotton wasn't the first child who was killed by the same person. Ten girls between the ages of five and ten over the course of six years."

"How did they know that it's the same person?" Harm asked.

Meg took a breath and motioned to Harm's hand that still held the most recent threat. "The notes. For several months before each murder the killer sent notes to the parents saying that she was going to kill their daughter to protect her from growing up like she had," Meg said.

"I contacted the agents that I worked with on the case and they sent me copies of all the files related to Sylvie's murder three years ago. There's not much to go on, really, and the killer is… good."

"Good? How?" Harm asked. He knew Meg was too close to the whole thing to be objective, and he was pretty sure that she was too deeply into her own problems to worry about the investigation that so far had been getting them nowhere, but, until he could address his concerns with someone other than Meg, he decided to keep them to himself.

"All the murders have taken place in public areas in broad daylight. Usually at a park or a school. no DNA or fingerprint evidence is left behind. The mutilation takes place in about twenty minutes, and the child dies about halfway through when the knife that the killer uses is slid into the heart and twisted," Meg said shakily.

Harm wanted to throw up.

* * *

**JAG Headquarters**

**0810 hours **

**San Antonio, Texas**

Since she didn't think shecould afford the time to bother trying to find Harm and Meg, Mac gathered up the files and ran up to the Commanding Officer's office. His yeoman stopped her before she could rush in.

"Excuse me, ma'am, but the Admiral is busy, you'll have to come back later," the Petty Officer said firmly.

"This can't wait," Mac said. "Let him know that Colonel MacKenzie is here with new evidence on the death of Ryan Wade."

The Petty Officer did just that and was surprised when the Admiral yelled at him for not letting her in right away.

"You can go on in," the Petty Officer said, looking properly chagrined.

"Thank you," Mac said before pushing the thick wooden door open.

Admiral Bradley's office was much like Admiral Chegwidden's was back in Washington, only Bradley had a more Spartan decorating style.

"At ease, Colonel," Bradley said before Mac could even come through the door completely. "Where are Austin and Rabb?" he asked as Mac started sorting files on a long table that ran along the side of the room.

"They are working on another angle at the moment, sir, but I think that I may have found the missing link in this whole mess," Mac said. "These are Ryan Wade's school files, as well as his medical files."

"What am I supposed to be seeing?" Bradley asked as he started skimming over the files that were laid out in chronological order in front of him.

"The comments by the school's on-site doctor, a Dr. Alex Wyldes," Mac said. "According to the notes Wyldes made, Ryan was constantly coming to school with bruises, cuts, broken bones or sprained wrists or ankles. His parents said that he was an active kid, played a lot of football. But when I spoke to Ryan's friends they all told me that he would never play football with them, that he would only play baseball, which is not exactly a contact sport."

"Especially not in that age group," Bradley agreed.

"Exactly," Mac said. "And Wyldes commented that the cuts didn't look like they were normal injuries. They were too straight, like Ryan was being cut by a blade. He thought razorblade, but apparently the marks that razors make didn't match with the wounds on his body that were inspected during his time in a coma and in his post-mortem."

Bradley sighed heavily. "You're thinking child abuse," he said.

"I think that this would constitute _torture_, but, yes, I believe the parents are involved. At least, it's one of my theories," Mac agreed. "The predominant one, admittedly, but there are other options that I feel need to be explored before any further action is taken."

"Well then, this makes more sense now," Bradley said, going over to his desk and picking up an envelope that held an evidence bag. "This was sent to me this morning, anonymously. I had the lab check for fingerprints, DNA, trace… anything and everything that they could get off the bag and it's contents."

"Did they find anything?" Mac asked, not entirely sure she wanted to know the answer.

Bradley nodded. "Fingerprints and blood evidence. The prints matched up to a phantom print that was found at the scene of numerous murders of young children in the last ten years. There's no ID on the print in any database," he said. "There's also blood all over the…" he said, trailing off.

"Blood all over the what?" Mac asked gently. It was obvious that this was affecting the Admiral and that made her nervous.

"There's blood all over the blade," the Admiral said gravely.

He looked into Mac's eyes directly. She could see his hands shaking, though whether it was with anger or something else she couldn't tell.

"It belongs to Ryan Wade," Bradley said softly.

* * *

**JAG Headquarters**

**0840 hours **

**San Antonio, Texas**

"What do you plan on doing?" he asked. "Are you going to bring her home?"

"I wasn't. Not yet, at least," Meg said. "She's got friends at school, something she doesn't have here, and I still don't want her to see my mother like she is now." She looked down at her hands. "But maybe… maybe I should start thinking about brining her home… I mean, with you and Mac here… she might be safer."

"I think so," Harm agreed.

"The thing is, though, maybe she won't be safer here. All the other kids… they were fine, and then their parents brought them home or they came home for a school break or something and… that's when they were killed," Meg said.

Harm's shoulders slumped.

He hadn't thought about that.

"I mean, if I could know for sure she'd be safe here, I'd call the school right now and tell them that I'm on my way to get her," Meg continued. "But I think Lily might be in more danger when she's around me than she is away from me."

Harm reached out and put his hand over hers. "I'm not going to let anything happen to your daughter, Meg. I promise," he said.

Meg smiled slightly. "You've never broken a promise to me yet," she said, his promise increasing her confidence a little.

"Let me think about this for a while," Harm said. "There might be some other options that we haven't thought about yet."

"Like what?" Meg asked.

"I don't know, I haven't thought about them yet," Harm said, hoping to get more than a forced smile out of his former partner.

It worked.

She laughed, genuinely laughed, if only for a few seconds.

"Thank you," Meg said after regaining her composure.

Harm smiled tightly and then said, "This note… it says 'tell anyone what you know'. What do you know that this person doesn't want let out?"

Meg shook her head. "I can't, Harm. I can't risk my daughter's life like that," she said, her smile gone, her world pitch black once again.

"Meg, unless you stop playing the killer's game your daughter is going to end up a victim just like the other children," Harm snapped.

"No, it's when I stop playing the killer's game that my daughter ends up like the others," Meg snapped back. She pushed herself away from her desk and headed for the door. "I was stupid to have thought that you could help me," she said before walking out into the hall and heading for the stairs.

Harm sat still for a few minutes, mentally running over the conversation again in his mind. He could pinpoint the exact second where he had screwed everything up, and his silent self-flagellation hadn't been so bad since he had been fooled by the man posing as a detective who had stolen the book with his father's potential whereabouts in it while he and Mac were on a case on the _USS Hornet_.

The ringing of Meg's phone shook Harm out of his mental self-abuse.

"Lieutenant Commander Austin's office," he said, though why he hadn't just let it go to voicemail he wasn't entirely sure.

"Harm, where's Meg?" Mac asked.

"She… just left," Harm said. "What's up?"

"I'm in Admiral Bradley's office," Mac said. She took a slow breath. "There's something you need to see," she said before hanging up.

Harm stared at the phone for a second before replacing it in its cradle and heading for the elevator without a second thought.

The note was still in his hand.

* * *

_I hope this chapter made some sense to you guys... It wasn't written all at once like I usually work, which made for less flow that I'm used to writing with._

_Coming up next:_

_- Mac and the Admiral fill Harm in._

_- Harm shows Mac the note._

_- Admiral Chegwidden fights for his people back in Washington._


	9. Chapter Nine

**JAG Headquarters **

**0840 hours**

**San Antonio, Texas**

Mac and Admiral Bradley explained their theory to Harm and showed him the reports from the school, the boy's doctor, and the autopsy report. Bradley also showed Harm the knife and the lab report on all evidence it contained.

"Chain of custody is going to be hard to prove," Harm said as he looked at the bagged knife.

He didn't dare touch it. He'd handled murder weapons before, and instruments of torture. But this…

This wasn't just senseless violence.

Being the same room as the thing was too much for Harm at that moment. Physical contact was unthinkable.

"But not impossible," Mac said. "Where's Meg?"

"She's… there's something…" Harm stumbled. He cleared his throat and tried again. "It seems that she has been receiving threats for the past several months. This is the latest one," he said, handing the Admiral the note he still clutched in his hand.

**I know you know what I did to those kids, Lieutenant Commander Austin, and I know you know there are other victims that the FBI hasn't connected to me yet. Tell anyone what you know and I do the same to your daughter.**

"Who sent this?" Bradley asked.

"I don't know. Commander Austin thinks that it is the same person that she and the FBI suspected a few years ago for a string of mutilated and murdered children," Harm said. He looked at Mac for a moment to get some strength before continuing. "She believes that her daughter is the next target of the killer."

"You're talking about the Sylvie Cotton case, right?" Bradley asked.

"Sylvie Cotton, as in the granddaughter of the three star General Abraham Cotton?" Mac asked. She looked at Harm. "This is one of the FBI's biggest embarrassments. Serial killer, child mutilator, left out on the street. There's still a team tasked to finding this guy."

Bradley sighed. "Is Lily alright so far?"

"As far as I know, yes," Harm nodded. Then, off Mac's inquisitive look he added, "Meg's daughter." Mac shot him a 'why am I just being told now' look and he quickly added, "I just found out about her half an hour ago, Mac. What reason could I possibly have for keeping Meg's daughter a secret from you?"

"Hmm… let's see… well, off the top of my head, _paternity_," Mac said, her voice pleasant to the Admiral's ears but dripping with venom to Harm's.

"I am not the child's father, Mac. Meg and I were partners and friends, nothing more," Harm said firmly. He completely forgot that Admiral Bradley was standing right there. The Admiral, for his part, turned around, ostensibly to read over a file that he was holding, giving them a small amount of imagined privacy. "If you don't believe anything else, believe that," he said, reaching out and cupping her cheek with a lover's caress.

Mac leaned into his hand and smiled softly, letting Harm know that she trusted him and that they were okay. "I believe you, sailor," she whispered with a shy smile.

Harm let his full Flyboy smile loose on her and Mac blushed.

Then, suddenly, they remembered they were in Bradley's office and that he was standing only a few feet away from them. Moving a safe three feet apart and standing at attention in an attempt to overcompensate for their entirely un-Military actions of the prior few minutes.

"At ease," Bradley said, having seen the two lawyers come to attention in the reflection in a picture hanging on the wall depicting a tank raid during WWII.

"Sir, we're sorry about that—" Mac started to say only to be cut off by the Admiral.

"I didn't see or hear anything, Major. My attention was on this file," he said with a small smile as he dropped the folder onto his desk. "Just don't make what I didn't hear a habit around here, understood?"

"Yes sir," Harm said, unable to believe what he and Mac had just done.

Bradley took a deep breath and then said, "MacKenzie, find out who the SAC is for the investigation and get them out here. Get them to bring their own Forensic specialist for the second autopsy. Rabb, track down Austin and get her back here. If she needs personal time, fine, but she needs to fill out the paper work before she takes off again. I'm going to send some Marines to protect the school."

"Shouldn't Meg's daughter... Lily... be brought home?" Mac asked.

"No," Harm said quickly.

"I agree. She's safer at the school," Bradley said. "Get back to me when you've completed your assignments," he added, dismissing them.

They were on their way down to their 'office' when Mac finally found the words to ask Harm what was going on. "Why is it better to keep the girl in an unsecured boarding school? Wouldn't she be safer at home where we can all take care of her?"

"No," Harm said as he pushed the button for the elevator. "All of the previous victims had returned from boarding schools only a few days prior to their murders. Until we know otherwise we have to work on the assumption that the murderer won't attack until the child is back with the parent."

Reaching out Mac put her hand on Harm's arm. "I didn't mean to be so…" she trailed off, not sure how she could accurately describe her behaviour in the Admiral's office.

"I know," Harm reassured her.

"Its just… Meg is kind of a tense subject for me," Mac continued once they were alone in the elevator car. "You promise that kid isn't yours?"

"I have never slept with Meg, and unless the rules have changed, sex helps in the making of a baby," Harm said.

"Unless she got your... guys... some other way," Mac said.

"Mac," Harm said in a warning tone. Mac nodded and looked down at her feet. Harm reached out and cupped her cheek tenderly. "If you want me to check I will, but I am ninety-nine-point-nine percent sure that I don't have any kids running, walking, or crawling around out there."

"You don't have to check," Mac said, ashamed. "I just… want _your_ kids to be _our_ kids, you know?"

Harm smiled and leaned in, brushing his lips over hers. "Good, 'cause I want _my_ kids to be _your_ kids, too," he said before moving back to a respectable distance when the doors opened and several military personnel joined them in the ten-by-ten space.

The doors opened again on the next floor and everyone got off, leaving Harm and Mac alone again.

"It… um… I mean, I know it wasn't a big talk or anything, but it wasn't too soon for _the kids talk_, was it?" Mac asked nervously. "I mean, yes, I want to have children, but this thing between us is so new and I don't want you to feel like I'm dying to get pregnant or anything."

"Mac, calm down. I'm not easily freaked out, okay," Harm said with a smile. "I'm not ready to have children right this second, and, from what I'm told, it takes about nine months anyway, so that works out well. I would like to enjoy being with you, just the two of us, for a while before we think about kids, but if it happens earlier than expected… I would be more than okay with that. I just want to be with you, Sarah."

They held off any further discussion until the end of the elevator ride, the stopping every few floors to let people on and off making any meaningful conversation impossible, and they remained silent until they were in Meg's office with the door closed and the blinds pulled.

Harm pulled Mac into his arms and he held her for several minutes, needing her to ground him and reassure him that the world wasn't completely full of evil. Mac sank into Harm's embrace willingly, her body curving against his as she wrapped her arms around his torso.

A few minutes later they pulled away at the same moment, knowing that there were things that needed to be said and that they had tasks to accomplish for Admiral Bradley.

"I want this to work, Harm," Mac said. "I don't think I've ever wanted anything more."

"This is going to work," Harm assured her. He kissed her softly and was reluctant to pull away. "We should get back on task," he said, clearly not happy about the prospect.

Mac nodded and turned towards Meg's desk. "Any idea where I could get the file from the Cotton investigation?" she asked.

Harm shifted some papers and then handed the file to Mac. "Meg and I were going over it before she left," he explained.

"Where do you think she went?" Mac asked, knowing Harm was worried about his former partner. She was worried about Meg, too, but not to the degree that Harm was.

"I have one idea, but it's a long shot," Harm said sadly.

"Someone always wins the lottery," Mac reminded him.

Harm smiled softly and grasped her hand for a moment before leaving to look for Meg. Mac found the extension for the Special Agent in Charge of the murders and then she picked up Meg's desk phone and dialled.

"Joshua Cole," a haggard sounding man said after the second ring.

"This is Lieutenant Colonel Sarah MacKenzie, Jag Corps."

"What can I do for you, Colonel?" Cole asked.

"You're the SAC on the investigation into the mutilation and murder of several children over the past several years, are you not?" Mac asked.

"I am," he said hesitantly. "Why?"

Mac sighed softly. "Because there's been another."


	10. Chapter Ten

_The last time I was in Texas I was about three and, well, my memories of that visit are a little fuzzy to say the least. The cemetery is real, according to the web site I went to, but if it's not or if I got anything wrong I'm sorry._

_M_

**

* * *

**

**San Fernando Cemetery**

**1000 hours**

**San Antonio, Texas**

Harm parked the Navy fleet sedan outside 746 Castroville Road, three and a half miles west of the heart of San Antonio. Meg's truck was parked a few spaces away. He got out and went over, placing his palm on the hood.

The engine was still warm.

The cemetery was large, a mixture of mausoleums and headstones covering a great amount of the lush green grass. The grounds were well kept and there were fresh flowers on many of the graves. It was incredibly beautiful, Harm had to admit, but the fact that it was a cemetery automatically creeped him out a little bit. It was an irrational reaction brought on by far too many horror movies as a child and being too worried that he would be failing his mother if he was weak enough to go to her with his nightmares that still wouldn't go away even now that he was thirty-five and entirely cognizant that monsters don't exist except with human souls and that the dead will no rise from their graves to attack you if you step foot on the wrong blade of grass.

Having been there only once before, Harm was hesitant to venture into the cemetery, but he did so anyway. San Fernando Cemetery was nowhere near as massive as Arlington where he, regrettably, went far too often for funerals and to visit the graves of those he had lost, but Harm had always had better directional instincts while flying than he did on the ground, compounded by the childhood fears that made his spine tingle in an entirely unpleasant way, on top of his knowledge that Meg had left the office to get away from him and his well-meaning prodding on the subject of her daughter made him somewhat less than willing to enter the cemetery. But, Harm decided, he had flown a F-14 over hostile territory; he didn't think a peaceful cemetery would pose much of a threat.

Harm didn't count on the anger of Meg Austin, though.

"_YOU SON OF A BITCH! WHY THE HELL COULDN'T YOU JUST LEAVE ME ALONE?_" Meg yelled when she saw Harm standing a few feet away from where she was sitting on the grass in front of her father's grave. "_I'M AT MY FATHER'S GRAVE, YOU BASTARD! LEAVE ME THE HELL ALONE!_"

Harm, who had never heard Meg swear once in all the time they'd known each other, was a little shocked, but he didn't let it show. "Meg, calm down. I'm not here to fight with you. I want to help you, and your daughter. I think I might have a plan, but I need some more details from you before I put anything in motion."

Meg swiped at the tears that were falling down her cheeks, angry that Harm had caught her when her defences were so low. "I _don't want_ your help and I _don't want_ you to make plans. Just get Mac and go home. Go back to DC. _I_ can handle this _on my own_."

"Yeah, 'cause coming to the cemetery to cry to your dead father, that's a real productive route to take," Harm said. "I know you love your father and want to turn to him for help right now, but he's gone, Meg. I'm still here. And I swear that I will do everything I can if it means that your daughter gets to grow up and have a normal life. But you have to help me, and you have to let me help you."

"I don't want your help," Meg said again, though it was clear her resolve was weakening.

"Meg, Mac and I spoke with Admiral Bradley and we've worked out a plan to both protect Lily and catch the monster that killed those other children," Harm said gently. "The thing is that we need your help."

Sighing heavily Meg turned around, turning to her father's final resting place as if the answers to everything she wanted to know lay there just waiting for her to take a look. Harm could understand needing advice from the father that wasn't there, and he had never tried to hide that fact, but he had never been witness to the desperate need for fatherly advice from someone long since departed. He wondered if that was what he looked like every time he went to the Wall, if he had worn that expression for the seventeen years he had searched for his father. He wondered how many times Mac had been right where he was then and if she had felt the same uselessness and desperation to help that he was experiencing at that moment.

"What did you have in mind?" Meg asked after a long silence where Harm was torn between the automatic impulse to go to Meg and try to make things right and the knowledge that when he was in her position he would have—and had—bitten the heads off of anyone who tried to help him.

* * *

**JAG Headquarters **

**1250 hours**

**San Antonio, Texas**

After talking with the SACof theinvestigationMac had called Lieutenant Commander Theresa Coulter because, even though they were impossibly hard on her, she was the best there was when it came to murdered children. The FBI hadn't been able to get the forensic specialist they wanted for the case so she had offered to get Terri involved. Apparently the SAC had heard about Terri and was pleased that Mac felt so confident that she would be able to get her to work the case with them.

Terri had been reluctant to help out until Mac had mentioned that, not only was a little boy dead, but a little girl was in danger as well. After she had said that—and Mac refused to feel guilty in any way shape or form for playing on Commander Coulter's emotions so shamelessly—Terri had said she would be on the next flight out.

After she finished making her phone calls Mac had nothing to do but catch up on the past murders to see what else had been carried over to the Jason Wade murder.

"Hey," Harm said from the doorway, "you get through to the Feds?"

"They're on their way," Mac nodded. "So is Commander Coulter," she added.

Harm tensed up for a moment. They hadn't really spoken to each other since he called to tell her that they had caught Annie Lewis' killer and that her twin, Dar-Lyn, was safe.

"Was that the wrong move?" Mac asked when she noticed her partner's expression.

"No, Terri's the best," Harm said, leaving the doorway and moving to sit next to Mac. "I just… well, she's not so great with the living sometimes and Meg's got enough going on without hearing every single detail of what could happen to her daughter if we're not careful," he improvised quickly. He was concerned about that, but mostly he didn't want the memories of what had happened to Annie and what could have happened to Dar-Lyn brought back up.

Mac seemed to buy his excuse and she looked at Harm, trying to decipher what else was bothering him. "Did you find Meg?" she asked gently.

"Yeah. She's up talking to Bradley now," Harm said. He didn't volunteer where he had found Meg and Mac didn't ask. "Remember when things were simple and this was just a wrongful death suit?" he asked, rubbing his hand over his face as if that would take away the emotions and the pain that had settled over everyone involved in the investigation.

"No," Mac said softly. She reached out and took Harm's hand in hers, her delicate fingers wrapping securely around his in an effort to ground him and remind him that not everything was death and chaos and pain. "What do you say we get out of here for a while? Take a long lunch, spend some time away from this case before it destroys both of us. We're pretty much stuck until Terri does her thing and the FBI goes over the evidence for themselves, and I doubt the Admiral will have a problem with us cutting out for a few hours."

"I'd like that," Harm said, squeezing her hand lightly.

Mac stood up and circled the table, not letting go of Harm's hand. She pulled him to his feet and slipped her arms around his middle, her head slipping into the curve where his neck met his shoulders. Harm wrapped his arms around Mac, his head dropping to rest atop hers. They fit together so perfectly and it felt so good to just hold each other that neither one felt any motivation to move for several minutes.

"Thanks," Harm said when they finally did separate. Mac didn't need to ask what he was thanking her for.

"Anytime," Mac replied, brushing an imaginary piece of lint from his shirt before reaching for the doorknob. "Ready?" she asked, fingering the fabric of her cover while her fingers curled around the brassy knob. Harm nodded, picking up his own cover, and Mac opened the door and led the way out of the conference room. They locked the door and made sure that it was secure before heading to the elevator.

* * *

**The Grind**

**1325**

**San Antonio, Texas**

The Grind was a little coffee shop not far from the JAG offices that was busy enough that it didn't seem deserted but empty enough that it didn't have the oppressive feel that a big chain coffee should gave off. Harm and Mac ordered coffees and food, a salad for Harm and a roast beef sandwich for Mac, and then found a table in the corner where they could enjoy their meal.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Mac asked after a few minutes of rather tense silence.

"Talk about what?" Harm asked.

"Whatever's making you take your anger out on that defenceless piece of lettuce," Mac said, pointing at the abused bits of 'rabbit food' that Harm was stabbing with his plastic fork.

Harm dropped his fork and sighed heavily. "I'm just trying to figure out how the Wade's are involved in the other murders."

"Maybe they're not," Mac said. "Maybe they're not serial killers. They might just be abusive parents who went too far one time and tried to hide the fact that they killed their son by having the body mutilated somehow," she said. She dropped her sandwich. Suddenly dead animal didn't appeal to her quite as much. "Harm, please don't dwell on this. We left the office to get away from this case, remember? To spend time together, without thinking about children dying and the innumerable horrible things we've seen in our lives."

"I know," Harm said. "It's just kinda hard to let go, you know?"

Mac frowned at his wording, mental flashbacks to Sydney kicking her in the gut for several painful seconds before the Marine in her started fighting back and the woman in her reminded her that harm had finally let go and that they were together at last. She reached across the table and grasped his hand, ignoring the fact that they were in uniform and in public. She needed physical contact and she knew Harm did, too, so she threw any thought of regs out the window. "I say we should go back to the house, get into some comfortable clothes, curl up together, and we talk everything out," Mac suggested. Harm looked sceptical. "Talking helps, Harm. We can both afford to take half a day off, especially since the FBI and Commander Coulter aren't going to arrive until the morning. Meg has her truck and I'm pretty sure she'll be leaving the office early today, too. The Admiral won't mind. I'm positive."

"Okay," Harm said, though somewhat reluctantly. He felt like he should be doing something to stop the killer but he knew that there was nothing anyone could do until they had more to work with. Harm just prayed that once reinforcements arrived they would get what they needed to begin actively searching for the killer.

Neither one was all that hungry so they left their meals where they were and headed back out to the car. Mac called the Admiral and secured them both for the day. Bradley was fine with them taking some time, knowing that cases where children were the victims were the hardest to investigate and that those involved often needed time to escape for a little while before the case took them over completely. He told Mac that he was sending Meg home as soon as she finished outlining the details about the school and about Lily that they needed to accurately secure the child and Mac promised to look out for the younger officer.


	11. Chapter Eleven sorry about delayshort

_I'm so sorry for the delay. I've been slowly moving everything on my harddrive from my PC to my laptop but I ran into some technical difficulties when my rabbit, Snickers, decided that the cord for my mouse was too tasty to resist. I finally found a new mouse that actually works—I'm too cheap to buy a new one, especially since the PC is destined for the scrap heap anyway—this morning and I was transferring files when I found this. I knew I had a chapter, or at least a portion of one, written up, but I could have sworn it was still on paper and not typed up. Obviously I was wrong._

_I've since invested in an overpriced baby gate to keep the rabbit on the main floor since my computer equipment is upstairs in my bedroom, so unless the dog knocks the gate down, I shouldn't run into this problem again. Knock on wood._

_Sorry this chapter is so short, but I wanted to get this story started up again. I'll try to get the next chapter written and up as soon as possible, but I'm starting a new job this week and the training is supposed to be pretty extensive so I might be too busy/tired to write as often as I'd like._

* * *

**The Ranch**

**2300**

**San Antonio, Texas**

Even though they were both exhausted neither Harm nor Mac could fall asleep. They both had too much on their minds.

"Harm?" Mac said tentatively. "Are you awake?" she asked, even though she was relatively sure he was.

"I'm awake," Harm replied. He placed a tender kiss on the back of her neck before pulling her a little closer to his body. "What's on your mind?" he asked, hoping whatever Mac wanted to talk about would stop him from seeing a little girl, a miniature Meg, being slaughtered over and over again.

"Lily," Mac said. Harm tensed up and Mac rolled over to face him. "No, just hear me out," she said before Harm could protest. Harm nodded and shut his mouth. "I was just thinking that the school is probably not the safest place for her to be right now, and since she can't go to her father's and we can't risk her coming back here, why don't we talk to Meg about taking her out of school and having her stay with someone else for a while?"

"I'm not sure putting her up with strangers is the best way to protect her, Mac," Harm said, unsure he completely understood her plan.

Mac nodded. "I realize that. But she's about the same age as little AJ and Bud does owe his acceptance to law school to Meg... I mean, we'd have to talk to Meg first, and then Bud and Harriet if Meg thinks it's a good idea, but I think that getting Lily away from the school and to a place where she can be protected full time without going to a safehouse is a good idea."

"I agree. We'll bring it up with Meg in the morning," Harm said. He moved a little closer and rubbed Mac's nose with his own. "Until then, though," he whispered, "you are not to think about anything other than where you want to go when we get back to DC."

"Go?" Mac asked as she slid the hand that wasn't tucked under the pillow under Harm's shirt. Her fingertips lightly traced the muscles and bones of his back and side, smiling when she reached a spot that tickled.

"Yeah. I figure that once this is all over we could take a Friday and a Monday off and have four days to get away from it all," Harm said.

"Hmm, that sounds nice," Mac smiled. "Any thoughts on our destination?" she asked as she snuggled up against Harm, their bodies now as close as they could be while fully clothed.

Harm thought for a second, debating the merits of the country bed and breakfast over a tropical location, but he decided that it wouldn't matter as long as he had Mac with him. And he told her so.

"Well, personally, I wouldn't mind going somewhere with a beach," Mac said. "Harriet and I went shopping a few weeks ago and I got a new bathing suit… I think you'll approve…" she teased.

"I'm sure you'll look amazing, Mac, but I'm not sure I'll want to let other people see you in it…" Harm said.

Mac grinned. "You've got nothing to worry about, Flyboy. I'm all yours. Unless, of course, George Clooney comes around." Harm rolled his eyes as he leaned in, capturing Mac's lips in a deep and sensual kiss.

* * *

**JAG Ops**

**0700**

**San Antonio, Texas**

"It's risky, and not wholly above-board, but it could work," Admiral Bradley said thoughtfully. He looked at Meg who looked like a little girl called in front of the principal. Harm was seated beside her, there for moral support should she need it. Mac was standing with her hip brushing against Harm's shoulder as she shifted her weight. "Ultimately this is up to you, Commander Austin. I won't make this an order, but I will recommend seriously considering what Commander Rabb and Colonel MacKenzie are suggesting."

"I…" Meg said softly, her voice shaky and unsure, "I think I need to think about this for a while. Right now Lily is safe; that's all that matters to me at the moment." She looked over at Harm. "You really think it could work?" she asked, willing to trust in his judgement because he had never steered her wrong before. Harm took risks, that much was true, but never with human life, and especially not with a child's life.

Harm took a moment and then nodded. "I looked at the picture of Lily in your mother's room this morning before we left. She could easily pass as Harriet's daughter. Mac has a former client who can get papers for Lily—birth certificate and a passport. Harriet has an older sister… I'm drawing a blank on her name at the moment."

"Katherine," Mac supplied helpfully.

"Katherine," Harm nodded, flashing Mac a quick smile before turning back to face Meg. "We can have the papers say that Lily is Katherine's daughter and Bud and Harriet can watch over Lily until this is taken care of," Harm said.

"She needs to be in school," Meg said softly.

"Admiral Chegwidden's sister, Adele, is an elementary school teacher. She works two days a week—cutbacks—and she'd be willing to privately tutor Lily on her day's off. She won't fall behind," Mac promised.

Meg worried her bottom lip with her teeth.

* * *

_Okay, this is probably the shortest chapter I've ever posted, but, seeing as it's been, like, forever since I updated this fic, I hope you guys won't mind too much. The next chapter is already in the works and I promise I'll keep Snickers away from any and all cords in the future._

_Mel_


	12. Chapter Twelve sorry about further delay

**_Okay, this update is coming almost two months later than planned, but my JAG muse abandoned ship and then both my grandfather and my step-grandfather were hospitalized, and, the final blow to my emotional psyche, my dog, Shadow, died. Then, of course, I got sidetracked with other fandoms, and, unfortunately, my JAG stories got pushed aside and forgotten on my hard-drive. However, I was updating my website and I was hit with a little glimmer of inspiration, so this story found a new chapter. GENTRY will be updated shortly as well, as I am almost finished the next chapter of that story. Please be patient with me, though. It's been a rough few months and I'm just now getting back into the swing of things._**

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**Roberts Residence**

**0615**

**Roslyn, Virginia**

The phone rang loudly, stopping Bud as he loped toward the coffee maker. He turned and grabbed the phone off the table where it had be left the night before. "Hello, Roberts residence," he said sounding entirely too chipper for someone who hadn't even had a cup of coffee yet.

"_Bud, hey, it's me."_

"Commander! How was Miramar?" Bud asked. Sometimes he still felt like he had back when Harm was flying off the Patrick Henry and he and Mac had gone to investigate the hotshot pilot, Lieutenant Buxton. _Legal Weenie_. Even now, years later, he still felt the same almost high-school-ish inadequacy that he had during that investigation. And with his leg, or, rather, lack thereof, holding him back from sea duty, Bud had found himself in serious need of some vicarious thrills. A couple of good flying stories should tide him over until the next time Harm and Mac did something stupid yet equally brilliant.

However Harm didn't volunteer any stories. In fact, he was alarmingly blunt.

"_Good. I'm in San Antonio now."_

Bud poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down at the kitchen table. "How are Colonel MacKenzie and Commander Austin?" he asked.

"_They're both good. Look, Bud, I need a favour. It's kinda a big one. Is Harriet around?"_

"She's just feeding Jimmy," Bud said.

"He's fed and changed," Harriet said as she came into the kitchen with Jimmy in her arms and AJ trailing behind her. "Who's on the phone?"

"Commander Rabb," Bud said. He found the base for the phone and put Harm on speaker. "Harriet's here, sir."

"_Drop the ranks, Bud. This is more of a personal favour than anything else."_

"Unca Harm!" AJ said excitedly. He hadn't seen his godfather in far too long. "You gonna come over an' play wif me?" he asked. He was still holding out hope that he would get to go flying in 'Sarah' but according to his mother he was still too little. AJ hated being too little. He was a lot bigger than Jimmy but that didn't seem to matter to anyone.

Harm's warm chuckle carried through the phone line clearly. _"Not today, buddy. I'm in Texas with Aunt Mac."_

"Oh," AJ said sadly. He wasn't quite sure of where Texas was but he knew it wasn't anywhere close. "Mommy, can I go watch Pooh?" he asked.

"Just while we talk to Uncle Harm, then you have to get ready for school," Harriet said. "Go pick the one you want and your daddy will come set it up for you in a second, okay?"

AJ smiled and ran off to the living room where the big TV lived. Bud went after the precocious child while Harriet settled little Jimmy in his carrier that was sitting on the table and, after making sure he was set, she sat down at the table.

"So what can we do for you, sir?" Harriet asked. She doubted she would ever be able to just call him 'Harm'. Bud returned and sat down next to Harriet as he alerted Harm to his presence.

"_I don't want to go into the details, but this investigation has gotten completely out of hand. There's a little girl, Lily, who has been targeted by a serial killer. We need to get her out of town as fast as possible."_

Harriet gasped. She hated knowing that there were people out there who took pleasure in taking away the lives of others. She wasn't exactly privy to most of the details of the cases that were tried at JAG, but she knew enough to know that the capacity for evil in some people was overwhelming. In her mind she saw Dar-Lin Lewis, scared and alone, terrorized by someone who was pretty much family to her. She had to force herself not to envision Dar-Lin's twin sister, Annie, who hadn't been lucky enough to get away from Charlie. The crime scene photos that Harm had tried so hard to keep her from seeing had been etched into her mind's eye and had left her crying and shaking for weeks after.

The thought of the girl, Lily, meeting the same fate as Annie Lewis, or even that of Dar-Lin, was unconscionable.

"What can we do?" she asked without giving it a moment's thought.

Harm explained the plan and told them to think about it and call him back as soon as they made a decision. They chatted for a few minutes after that and then they hung up. Harriet had already decided that she was going to do anything she could to help, and she prayed that her husband wouldn't put up a fight.

"We have to help that little girl, Bud," Harriet said firmly.

"I don't know, Harriet," Bud said softly.

Harriet looked at her husband with watery eyes. "We never got the chance to protect our own little girl from the people and things that want nothing more than to inflict pain. We couldn't save Sarah. But we _can_ save Lily," Harriet said passionately.

Bud took a moment and then nodded. "Alright. But I'm talking to the Admiral about getting a protection detail while she's here," he said, and Harriet knew there was no arguing with him on that point. She nodded and Bud smiled softly. "It's going to be okay, Harriet. Remember, the Commander and the Colonel have an amazing track record when it comes to murder investigations."

"Not the claim to fame I'd wish for," Harriet muttered sadly, reaching out and taking Jimmy's tiny hand in her own. He was so tiny and innocent and it pained her to think about how quickly he would become tainted by the world that he had come into. "Sometimes I really hate this world, Bud," she confessed tearfully.

"I know, sweetie," Bud said softly, reaching over and smoothing his hand over her hair tenderly.

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**JAG Headquarters**

**0700**

**Falls Church, Virginia**

It wasn't often that Jen was asked to sit in for conference calls regarding investigations—unless the Admiral needed her to make notes for future reference, and so when Bud had poked his head out of the Admiral's office and asked her to join them she had been intrigued. Slightly concerned, but mostly intrigued.

"Take a seat," Chegwidden said to Jen. She sat in one of the Admiral's old leather club chairs and waited patiently for further instruction. "How much do you know about the investigation Colonel MacKenzie and Commander Rabb are on?"

"Not much, sir," Jen said. "I know that the Colonel flew out to San Antonio and the Commander joined her later. A vehicular manslaughter case, if I remember correctly.

AJ nodded. "That was what it started out as. But, as usual, nothing is as simple as it seems," he said. He massaged the muscle between his eyes the way he tended to when he felt a headache coming on. "Long story short, there is a little girl who they believe is the next target of a serial killer. We're going to put the girl…"

"Lily, sir," Bud prompted.

"Lily," Chegwidden nodded, "into protective custody. She will be staying with Lieutenant Roberts and his family. However, with Harm and Mac gone we need Bud here, and Harriet can't travel because of the boys…" he trailed off, knowing that Jen got the picture. She always seemed to have a good grasp of what he was thinking. "Of course, this is entirely voluntary—"

"I'll do it, sir," Jen said before Chegwidden could finish covering his six by making sure that she knew this wasn't him giving her an order. "When do you want me to leave?"

It was only then that Harm spoke, making Jen jump a little. She had completely forgotten that she had been called in for a conference call. "There's a helo leaving Quantico at 1000. If you can get there in time there's a seat for you, Jen."

"I'll be there, sir," Jen promised. She wondered if she could convince the Admiral to loan her one of the JAG fleet sedans since her car barely managed to make the trip from her apartment to Falls Church and back every day.

"Good. Either Mac or I will pick you up when you arrive here and you'll have a ride to the school to pick Lily up tomorrow morning before your flight back to Dulles," Harm said. There was a soft beeping in the background and Harm sighed. "That's the hospital. They've finally been persuaded by a court order to hand over the Wade boy's medical records. I have to get over there, sir."

"Keep in touch," AJ said before hanging up on Harm. He turned his attention back to Jen. "Lieutenant Roberts will drive you to your apartment and then to Quantico." Jen opened her mouth to protest, but the Admiral spoke again before she could get the words out, and her military teachings forced her to refrain from trying to talk over her CO. "He has an interview to conduct out there anyway. He'll just be a few hours early. Now, you have a long day of travelling ahead of you, Petty Officer, so I suggest you get your desk squared away so you can pick up something to eat on your way to the base."

"Aye, aye, sir," Jen said, standing.

She and Bud headed for the door. "And, Jennifer?" Chegwidden said, calling her by her first name for the first time that Jen could remember—and her memory was excellent.

"Yes, sir?" Jen said, turning to face her CO.

"Be careful," Chegwidden said compassionately.

Jen smiled softly, basking in his fatherly concern for her. She had never gotten that from her own father, which had been part of the reason she had turned to her days of the five finger discount. Sometimes Jen wished that she had had a different life, but then she looked at her current life and realized that she never would have joined the Navy and never would have found a home at JAG if she hadn't had the life that she did.

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_**Hopefully I won't have another run of shitty luck coupled with writers block, but it might happen, so be forewarned.**_


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